My father has been reincarnated as a dog.
There is no physical or character resemblance.
It’s just that, well,
What is life but waiting
For form to allow
The soul to flourish?
My father used to say,
I could tell you what to do.
But you’re going to do what you want to do anyway.
And now he has returned
As an Australian Shepherd/ Kelpie mix
With a boundless personality
Who doesn’t smoke or drink
Or lament about my babci
Putting raisins in the rice pudding.
She loves unconditionally.
I make sure she’s fed and goes out,
Gets treats and belly rubs, too.
Such are the dynamics of the universe.
Waiting for the form
To allow the soul to flourish