There is no predicting

the behavior of light

passing through a painted bulb:

tethered to the joy of some

captivating new beauty

it may bark protection

or burn tight-rolled dollars as incense

or smile in sync with blinks

or place holes in the side of,

not the bottom of,

rough-thrown clay planter pots

or even,

in fits of furious whimsy

or whimsical fury,

dance in adoring rhythm

to the music of another beat.