The pothos in its shiny white pot
in the corner, next to the snake plant
standing tall

The poor little pothos, stretching, reaching
toward the window
anything to get a peek at the sun before it passes on
to the other windows

I turn the pot
and a day later the pothos is again reaching for light
and I wonder what stretches me like that
what do I want that I would reach for
no matter what keeps turning me away?
what is life-giving to my soul
in the dark times?

How do I stretch toward love?