WHEN A MIRACLE SPEAKS

When a miracle speaks, don’t be bashful.
Run right up to it. Hug it like an old friend.
Don’t let go. Give it an extra squeeze.

Walk the beach with it. Talk about old times,
those moments when the vessel of love
overflowed. Listen to every word.

When a miracle speaks, there are no thunderous lightning
bolts. Hold the drama. It speaks from the back row.
Look around. It may be closer than you think.

Sometimes a miracle whispers. Other times
the miracle eats ice cream at midnight, wears argyle socks
and a fedora, dances until the sun is up.

Don’t forget the hard times. The miracle was there;
it was just wearing old jeans and sunglasses
so as not to be blinded by your tears.

Why are you so shy of miracles? You’re not the only
mystery. You have a common rhythm. It’s in your DNA.
Sometimes I think you enjoy being dull.

It’s as simple as this: When a miracle
speaks, answer.

Appears in The Lesson of Plums.