Miracles can happen every day. Just ask Charlotte and Wilbur. Sometimes, the miracles are astounding--a sunrise of salmon and pink over a frozen lake. Sometimes the miracles are simple--a spiderweb in a door frame. Lurvy has probably walked right by hundreds of miracles without a second glance. Newborn goslings. Fingers of frost in the pumpkin patch. Charlotte simply makes Lurvy stop and take notice.
I am sitting in my classroom at the moment, handing back graded exams. I just finished all of my final grades a couple of hours ago. It's just a matter of data entry into the computer now. Then the semester is over for me. It's been a heck of a few months. On the way down to the classroom, I walked by my friend Ray's dark office. Dark. Empty. One of the last things Ray did for me was give me a graduate-level poetry workshop to teach next semester. One of the last times I saw him, he smiled and said, "You're all set. Enrollment's good." Ray was a miracle in my life.
Tomorrow, I'm going to my son's school Christmas program. I'm not working. Took the whole day off. I'm looking forward to simply relaxing, not worrying about anything. That's going to be a miracle for me. Watching my son sing with his classmates, that's going to be another miracle. Having time to breathe, think, reflect. All miracles.
I'm supremely grateful tonight for all of these things. For Christmas programs. Days off. Poetry workshops. Finished grading. My friend Ray.
Saint Marty forgets to say thanks for the miracles in his life sometimes. Hell, sometimes he doesn't even notice them.
 |
| You should expect miracles, too |
U. P. Poet Laureate Voting
No comments:
Post a Comment