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On Serendipity

by Stephanie Alfaia

You’ve been on my mind
I find myself wondering
How to explain
A chance encounter –
One where both avoided at all costs.
How do you define coincidence?
I find myself trying to understand
If adding meaning makes it meaningful
Or whether it makes me insane.

Tell me serendipity,
Is it you when I manifest?
When I think of someone so often –
With near obsession,
When I speak their name into the air…
When the winds carry,
The sound I imagine their voice to be?
Is it you when we find ourselves
Sitting side by side
After our counterparts bailed
And left us to… a serendipitous moment?
It can’t be serendipity.
It must be insanity.

But tell me,
Because I may become Narcisso;
But either I always get what I want
Or my instincts are so sharpened
That fate follows. Allows.
Or perhaps I accept whatever
The universe places in front of me.

And here I thought a moment alone
With a cold brew in hand
Would suffice, would explain.
Yet it does nothing but drown
And confuse.

I’m left back where I started.
That’s the pain of life.
The essence of tomorrow’s dark night,
Our inability to see or know tomorrow.
Yet I grieve
Because I truly
Want to believe
In serendipity

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