A gallimaufry is a jumble,
A bunch, a messy mass
Of this and that all tumbled
In a soul to somehow pass
As a creature, a beast
That’s burdened by itself
As it’s built up piece by piece
From spare parts off any shelf.
One grows hooves around a wheel,
One has gills and wings,
One has no mouth to eat a meal
But still somehow it sings.
The first finds its way to roads,
The second to the clouds,
The third has an expressive nose
And is harmonious as allowed.
Nature used the oddest math
To get these creatures done.
If life can’t find a worn in path
Trust that it will make one.