The randomness of it all, the sheer coincidence . . . .
When lovely events ensue in my life unsolicited,
When invited unto turmoil by screaming Sirens,
When on certain mellow days life stands still,
Thence in every circumstance I am persuaded,
Drawn to the perception that underlying it all
Some vague and anonymous transponder operates
Decoding the essence of some metaphysical plan . . . .
Happenstances like little feather fingers tickling time.