He creates miracles
And I don't know how to handle it.
I want to show him off,
But he is not mine to share.
A rare, crafted magic
Flows forth from his clever hands
Turning the world around him
Into banks to hold rivers of the stuff.
I am not the only one stymied and awed.
How then, am I alone,
With my strongly beating heart
Watching as he creates miracles?