This.

Out of infinite universes,

out of countless twiststurns 

of our lives

of the trillions of moments

that had to happen, in just 

this way and not that

what seems fated now; inevitable. 

But was really nothing more

than randomness dusted with 

the fairy dust of choice…?

Transcendent. 

And this morning, this single magical 

moment, when as you walk by

pushing a broom as you get

ready for company, 

I reach out and pat your

leg at the miracle of it 

and we smile, grateful 

for this singular, 

infinite, magical now.