sheena blackhall

(18/8/1947 / Aberdeen)

The Ordinary Miracle

After a dish of porridge, a milky coffee,
The sun being out for once
I took a walk in the woods beside the river

The sun sent little boats along the water
Like ferries carrying mirrors of pure gold

It was warm as melting butter,
That in itself was a miracle in my Northland
High on a knoll overlooking the rickshaw waves

I sat between a fir tree and a birch
Needing to be nowhere or somewhere
A floating moment of freedom

What happened next was this
The birch leaves, elfin green,
Danced in the sun like fireflies
And as I looked, it seemed I disappeared
Became, as it were, a nothing
A speck of happiness, a part of a joyful Whole

It may have lasted seconds or an hour
Then I was drawn again into my cell of flesh
My flawed and ageing sack of bones and failings

The sun was still as warm, the river shining
No blind man saw. No corpse rose from the dead
An ordinary miracle, nothing to shift the spheres
But there it sits, forever in my head

Submitted: Sunday, March 31, 2013

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