A Universe of Possibilities

Sometimes when my soul hurts, I think of little miracles-

Of bumblebees and butterflies, hummingbirds and roaring lions.

My weary heart rests at the promise of tomorrow,

The sunshine brightest on the tips of snowy mountains;

Whelmed I place my fingertips on small things-

The grainy sand beneath my feet, the coarseness of the gravel,

the amiable clay underneath;

and think of the many miracles that define me-

The cut that bleeds, red as life,

the eye that cries, the bones that build and break;

the pulsing nerves, the patterns on my palm;

the hammering heart and the will within-

a galaxy of truth;

a universe of possibilities