Sunday, February 24, 2013

Believe in miracles

I needed to find
Something real to cling to
In my routine Friday night
Fortune cookies
I got with my pecan shrimp
And broccoli
Some measure of wisdom
Or home the mundane
World has ironed out
With starched shirts
And practical solutions
Something beyond
the typical predictions of
“You’ll be rich,”
Or “Lucky” or “Wise,”
Something to hint that
A life full of frustrating struggles
Leads to more than
Gray hair and a bent back,
And forlorn glances
At what might have beens,
But all I got in this Friday’s batch
Was the stale taste of lemon cookie
And all too practical advice about
Discipline and self control.
And life being full of routines
I went to my Sunday morning laundry
And watched my world spin around
In the dryer, while near by feet,
Fluttering around my ankles
Like a pale butterfly,
Someone else’s abandoned fortune
Begging for me to retrieve,
Filled with no mundane advice at all,
But what I needed to hear most,
What we all need to hear all the time,
What we cannot possibly life without
Without going crazy,
“Believe in miracles,” was all it said.

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