Just because it wasn’t here yesterday
doesn’t mean it won’t be here today.
Some things arrive only in their own time.
Just because I am talking about morels
doesn’t mean I’m not talking about love.
And here it is, golden and misshapen,
something I step over once before discovering.
I mean, isn’t it wonderful when sometimes
we choose to show up and then, well,
it’s not really an accident, is it, that we find ourselves
with our hands, our hearts so full.