Tadpole

The frogs have laid their spawn. Those little jelly blobs looking very good to eat, like caviar or canape, extravagant, a treat. They lie close by the waterfall damped by its spits and spots, those hundred little jelly blobs, those black eye'd jelly dots. The frogs had gone for years until the pond was built again. Now with filtered flowing waters mixing oxygen to rain , and weedy bits and pieces helping fish to hide from cats, and lillies in their basket with their shady floating caps. I sit here on this sunny day and listen to the tune that water's babble plays to cool a heated afternoon. Will those tadpole birthing blobs inside their dome cocoons coincide our breaking out from home's confining rooms? Please may that be, oh may that be, and may that be quite soon.