Miracles

Even if the world were full of talking bears or beasts 
And no one stared or thought it strange in the least
And even if by thinking we could fly
And with our wishing touch the sky
We would find other fantasies that render incomplete
This world of dirt beneath our feet
Our hearts still longing for the next thing
The absence of which would smart and sting
Which is why
We miss the many miracles, endless, and all around
Begging, longing to be found

Somewhere there may be creatures dreaming of a blue sky 
And machines that pierce it, taking people from here to there, over oceans, deep and blue
To great cities encircled by forests blooming green in endless hues, in springtime,
And full of things called flowers, called forth by mist and rain and showers, so chock full of scent it’s shocking
And nights rising on endless plumes of orange and pink, as evening falls
And stars begin to blink 
While the miracle of a hard rock, with dirt and sea, sails around a sun 
Their heads shaking at the wonder of it all