It’s about how you look at the world. You either think nothing is a miracle or everything is a miracle. I lean toward the latter.
Some may be harder for us to see. Probably those right in front of you and me.
It’s a Wonder by Pat Durmon
that I have ripe tomatoes on my counter from south Arkansas
that the moon sails across the sky, whether we see it or not
that bridges of every sort can be built and crossed
that zebra swallowtails flit from flower to flower
that you and I were blessed with healthy imaginations
that you simply repent and Jesus belongs to you, you to Him
that order improves thinking
that music and laughter are good medicine
that wheelbarrows help people, near and far
that mountains and rivers become teachers
that walking home in dying light tastes sweet
that after death on earth, we’ll have a new name
that a coffin resembles a treasure chest
that a bawling baby brings hope to a mother
that rain can come after a long dry season
that chocolate is a temporary joy
that wordless gestures seem most memorable
that a woodpecker counts our territory as his
that the empty future will somehow get filled up
that there’s more to this life than we know
that the scent of my life will fall on the days of others.
If you slow down and look and listen and smell and taste, you can probably create your own list of beautiful, awesome, fantastic miracles.
Writing slows me down; listing gratitudes puts everything into perspective.
Tomatoes from South Arkansas, a gift from friends. Photographed by Pat Durmon, June 27, 2021.
Poetry Books by Pat Durmon