#87 The Miracle
This poem originated as a challenge from a friend to write a piece containing the phrase, "the miracle continues".
There's only one "unexplained phenomenon" I have experienced in my life I would deem miraculous. Witnessing my deceased father's gestures, attitudes and facial expression in my now 8 year old son I first found kind of spooky.
Now I see the gifts we all have to give in life is why life, itself, is deemed a miracle.
This poem originally was published in Poems on Life - Family Poems
|There is a majestic quality-
In everyone for all to see.
Some keep it hidden, some never realize-
The magnificence they hold in others' eyes.
Ah, yes, life itself is the gift.
Though the memory, itself, Time doth sift.
And some might think the reverence gone-
As those we love one by one pass on.
But the intricacies Fate doth weave-
In commemoration for all who grieve.
Are the blessings given to rebirth-
From souls no-longer of this earth.
At first notice I came undone,
My father staring at me through my son.
But, now, in joy I ascertain-
Through him, my father lives again.
I look to heavens' resounding grace-
Renewed appreciation of life and my place.
Knowing as each newborn child opens their eyes-
The miracle continues, no one really dies.