November 12: Erica Jong, "Ordinary Miracles," My Daughter

Ordinary Miracles

by:  Erica Jong

Spring, rainbows,
ordinary miracles
about which
nothing new can be said.

The stars on a clear night
of a New England winter;
the soft air of the islands
along the old
Spanish Main;
pirate gold shining
in the palm;
the odor of roses
to the lover's nose. . .

There is no more poetry
to be written
of these things.
The rainbow's sudden revelation--
behold!
The cliché is true!
What can one say
but that?

So too
with you, little heart,
little miracle,

but you are
no less miracle
for being ordinary.                         

________________________________

We are headed into a holiday of ordinary miracles:  pecan pie, turkey, scoops of whipped cream.  All the things that are so ordinary the rest of the year become great miracles on Thanksgiving.  It's one of my favorite days of the year.

The last couple days have been full of ordinary miracles for me.  My daughter competed in a scholarship competition at the university.  I went with her, sat with her, coached, made her laugh, took her out to Kentucky Fried Chicken.  On the way home last night, my daughter looked at me and said, "I want to tell you that you are a great father, and I'm really lucky to have you as my dad."  My daughter made me cry.

Now, Saint Marty has to get through this week of work and teaching before the other miracles begin.