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Some wanted to be tigers.  The angels talked a few out of it,
Two were led away, because they had a ridiculously silly hissy fit.
Six were given tiger-status, and sent to an Indian village.

I hoped they would be safe if guerillas came to plunder and pillage.
My best friend chose lion, and was soon waving a hearty, healthy good bye
From the Kenya-bound transporter, traveling south west in the night sky.
Not extremely hopeful, I flipped through the reincarnation cards selected for me,

I could be a rooster, a mushroom, an eagle, a snake, or a hickory tree.
Mazie, my spirit guide, was at the end of her rope. She said that is enough.
She got rather nasty, her wings looked matted and her speech was mean and gruff.

A changeling? I asked her in a hopeful little teasing way, my voice pretty level.
Praying she would not throw me in the fire slide that led to that crafty devil.
A changeling can reincarnate in one form, but can change earth bodies as needed.

A changeling can shape-shift, without sage, opium or thyme newly-seeded.
A changeling does not get bored with the same body every single earth day.
A changeling makes his own rules, and can fly or swim good-heartedly away.
I was an oak tree for ten years, spying on the neighbors from my seat way up high.

Then I decided to become their puppy, with one loud happy transmogrify.
I was going to be an owl next, but I forgot one important rule in heaven.
A puppy, no matter what breed, or how happy, rarely lives past the earth age of seven.

So here I am, figuring it out all over again.  Next time as a porpoise, I will be needing a fin.

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