One calls just because
he was thinking of me.
Another, to say he’s concerned
about someone,
is helping any way he can,
and asks if I will pray, knowing I already am.
Another to cry, to weep deep,
over children being killed in war
because it’s OK to cry with me.
Another to say, “Thank you, Mom.”
These miracles care about
making a difference.
They don’t care
about getting a better car
or better clothes.
They spend their money on groceries
for someone else,
plan trips to other countries
to do what they can to help.
Sometimes I think
the world doesn’t deserve them.
I don’t deserve them.
But that’s what the best miracles do.
They show up,
undeserved, because of love,
and make a difference.
For Mary’s prompt: Miracles
National Poetry Month: Day 3