Day Two: 2nd April 2014

Oh, for a mixing bowl!
That I might scry my fortune
In billowing clouds of egg white wisp,
Triumphs and tears
Churned up, whirled and whisked.

Cherished vessel of infinite comfort,
Cradling cares,
Folding fortune,
Conjoining mirth and melancholy
In its demi-orb depths.
Oh!
For my mixing bowl of fate.