Some days walking around as a human being, it feels like church,

like you have this feeling, like I didn't used to have,

where you just loved everybody.

And they were sitting outside and she was looking at her phone

but he was sitting there smiling at her.

Later, she was returning from somewhere,

and put her hand on his as she passed by,

I wanted to get up and walk around

and ask everybody questions,

wanted to know them.

He wrote a pretty poem about his grandfather's gardens,

by pretty I mean, meaningful - the way I think of my great grandfather's,

But this morning we were walking around, (got out of bed)

to marvel at what had come up.

It would've been normal if nothing had risen,

the bigger surprise was that they had done according to their nature,

and had.

Smiling just cause there is cornbread in the over.

Mailed new strange plants,

it says they have sunflower like blossoms in the fall,

you can tell if you looked at their leaves,

but it would be hard to guess looking at their tubers, their description: eat raw, sweet,

Planted hollyhocks and flowers, finally,

marked out, corn straight down it's row:

corn, squash, melon, cucumber,

The storm might still come.

He asked her, how long since we been knowing we was gonna love eachother?

A deer tick in the bed this morning,

how come he picked right there?

Waiting for the target,

What a wonderful world,

Everything leads you to your destination, to the next, to the next,

a big, long, hard game;

And so beautiful.

All of this brought me to you.

What ever is next is meant, makes it easier to bear, bare.

Living to find out,