Uncoincidental

I walk into the library,
through the hallway,
crossing seats, tables, racks,
and I come and sit,
from you, just two seats away.

I place the book,
face up on the table.
I open another and start to read,
and for you to notice,
I eagerly wait.

You don’t take long,
to notice the cover,
which is to you very familiar.
Impatient as you always are,
you get up and come near.

You use your fingers,
to set you silken hair aside.
You bend a bit,
look curiously with your spectacled eyes.

Ahhhh such proximity,
my heart pounds.
My mind waits anxiously.

“May I see this book?”
You turn to me and ask.
“Yes of course”
I say and hand it to you.
You take it, sit aside me,
open the book, flip a pages few.

I look at you so immersed,
your slender fingers,
drooling over the words.
I start to talk about the book,
discussing, telling about it,
my opinion, my view.

You mention you wonder,
at this coincidence,
You call my bringing this book,
a divine interference.
I nod in affirmation,
elated at the start of this lovely conversation.
But I smile to myself,
with the feel of completion.

For it was only yesterday,
I had overhead you say,
how you eagerly wanted,
this book, to read.

For it took me,
under the blazing sun,
rigorous searching,
bookshops, some 61.

And for it took,
a sleepless night,
to read it through,
and develop my opinion, my view.

And so I smiled at you,
and nodded in confirmation,
of this coincidence,
which was in reality,
so very un-coincidental.