It is a perfectly formed teardrop;
or the gold of an autumnal leaf;
it is the first apple or peach blossom
of spring.

It is the sight of a rainbow to a child;
or the sight of the child itself
observing that rainbow
for the first time.

A miracle is the sight of a loved one
beside me when I awake.
It is her hand in mine
to still that ache.

Yet Hume would have us believe
that miracles do violate
the laws of nature.
O, so not so!

For me the laws of nature
are the miracle.
To know that season follows season
is the awe.

And those who despise reason
to favour faith
are merely
self-deluded fools.

Not for me the accusation
of the psalm that would
make me a fool for
disbelieving god.

That I abandon faith
and choose instead
to reason with my brain
thus verifies belief.

It is as hard for the believer
to abandon a belief
as for a man of science
to discard old laws.

But moral values are self-evident.
I do not need an act of faith
to emphasise
A moral code.

It is enough to know that I am one
with all humankind and
whatever touches another,
touches also me.

I seek no vague salvation;
no sweetmeat in the sky;
it is enough to hold most dear
what is simply “I”.

We’ve wandered far from miracles,
from acts of faith and such,
but life itself’s miraculous
e’en to a worthless wretch.