Small Miracles

 

Some say

that they,

“Thank God

for small miracles.”

But I wonder

if they ever

really notice

the soft breath

of a savior

that turns away

a hurricane?

 

Do we feel

the whistle and snap

of fates

that come so close

to changing our lives?

Subsumed into the feed,

our senses dulled,

desires pacified.

 

Can we detect life

in concert?

Cellular synchronicity?

The atomic ballet?

Subtle

was never in our wheelhouse,

we always slipped the whisper,

begging for the yell.

 

Suffice it to say,

we could hear

no more intonations

beyond the beating

of our own hearts.

Every drop of blood

and every pulse,

a miracle.

 

 

HG – 2020

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