The Unplanned Garden
I took the wrong turn where the sycamores grow,
With no map in my hand and nowhere to go.
The road was untravelled, a quiet mistake,
For the sake of the turning, for destiny’s sake.
Then I saw you, just standing, caught in the rain,
A fortuitous meeting that severed the pain.
Not planned by the hours, not set by the clock,
Just a gentle collision—a fortunate shock.
Now our garden is lush, though we planted no seed,
For the wind brings the blossom that the spirit may need.
And the beauty we hold, in this wild, blessed place,
Is the accidental wonder of finding your face.
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