Miracle Poem by Rod M.Peters

Always a radiant universal being
Monstrous and beautiful,
Long since dispossessed of a celestial fief
Exiled to the borderland of
The uninformed worlds
Sitting in contemplation through the infinitely
Dragging episodes of creation
Till one whiff of whirling elements
Dance feverishly out the engulfing chaos
Pursuing a dream of their own
And coalescing in a canvas of moving figures
With enough semblance of order to ensure
The inevitable emergence
Down through impossibly long eons
Of making and remaking
Of a creature he could persuade to believe
That he was a full-fledged god.

Always one embittered Archon
Thinking to assuage the pangs of exile
And the coldness of solitude
By whispering a pious lie into the ears
Of the one memoryless child who
Forgot her true heritage
And felt orphaned of all solace
Beyond the reach of the cold absent mother.
As all demi-gods are fond to do
He will have long since propped up
The artisans of civilization
And the ravaging hordes who raze the land
And the prophets of divine retribution
And the fashioners of oblivion
And the bringers of the light.

But never can he foresee
The occurrence of the most unlikely event,
The lotus flower from the murky waters
Where Chaos thought to reign unchallenged:
The emerging true lovers,
Pristine and inexplicable
Possessed of a strange knack
For fashioning worlds of their own
Out of odds and ends,
With makeshift hopes pieced together
In gardens of stilled winds
And tethered longings.
He would never have a word ready
To make sense of all this
So he'd be forced to invent ‘miracle'.