The Miracle
The tree appeared sad, for just a bit.
The leaf then asked, What’s wrong you?
The fruit knew something didn’t fit,
The roots, they always knew what to do.
The birds on the branches felt comforted,
Generations had too, before them.
On the sweet ripe fruit, they nibbled.
Tweeting, chirping from branch to stem.
As his skin brushed past, touch remembered long ago.
The joy experienced, amidst buzzing of the bees.
The bushes, vines, also felt a deep glow;
Reflected deep, in their memories.
The mind, weaving threads of the story.
Changes, aging, as the leaves fall.
Happiness and the sense of Glory,
The Miracle, of the One in all.
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