An open door in answer

I thought to send out a message,
A digital prayer for company
while I waited for my gardening class.
But a voice inside quietly spoke up,
and I gave myself up, whole, to chance.
I slung my heavy bag on my shoulder
and walked down the hallway,
I asked a question with no form,
and it was readily absorbed into the pattern all around,
the threads and weave of that particular day
In that very building lit with a fire to the gods of
creativity; physical, written or worded.
My question condensed into you,
an open door in answer.