Magic and Miracles
You’ve drawn a slender line
between your magic and your miracles.
One crackles in the damp heat
of the spaces that form
when our bodies come together—
small nooks—and the air is electric.
This is your magic.
This is your grand, fleeting hocus pocus
where you find your way inside,
flint sparking and igniting joy,
and I believe you’ll know what it means
to exist there always.
Still, while I desire this conjuring
like a sunflower in the morning light,
it is a momentary gift.
Your miracles are less imposing.
They exist in patterns of daily phenomena,
the ones you turn over
in the peaceful quiet of running water,
like a warm bath, or the gentle whisper
of a summer breeze.
These miracles endure in twilight,
when the stars are
just beginning to shine.
….
This poem is from the chapbook Yearnings by Stephanie Harper (Finishing Line Press), and can be found at https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/yearnings-by-stephanie-harper/
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