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.