My palm in the flower pot 
Has grown tall
Each frond strong 
A testament to nurture 
Mine, I like to believe 
And the perfection 
Of where she lives in our home
Hers and mine 
Our spaces combined 
She sits across from me 
Diagonally 
In the warmth of the floor lamp 
An IKEA purchase 
A capitalist ploy gone right 
She sits light in her loamy soil 
In the soft glow 
From the 6 watt trio of bulbs
Sometimes of a late evening 
My day done, when I’m thinking
Of nothing in particular, she
Waves a grand green frond at me
In a little conversation 
A whisper in the quietness 
A reminder maybe
That we’re still here 
In our little eden of serenity
I smile at her my mouth lifting up
My spirits in its curve
She rustles happily
Lightening in that moment
Also the lines on my palms
Sweetening destiny
My palm in the flower pot
In that mystical little moment 
Stirs the whole cosmos around me.