The land that has long ago forgotten the smell of dampened Earth
is the land that I call mine
and it is on this land that I was raised and taught that there is no such thing as miracles
but it is on this land that I have wished on an infinite amount of stars to witness just one

My mama used to say the bible was her savior
and she read it to me every night before I fell asleep
but now mama’s bible sits on a dusty shelf rotting away
along with everything else she gave up on

I can still remember the story of Jesus though,
and how He loved us enough to die
and I cannot think of a braver thing to do,
so I pray, and hope for a miracle

but as the weeks passed
the heat began to creep into my mind
and I could not hear my heartbeat over the sound of the war that dictated our little town
desperate for a single drop of reassurance

but it would not come
and we all knew it
so we began to hate each other
and the life we did not choose
and perhaps it was all this hate
that caused the day to come
the day we had prayed for,
for so long that we had forgotten it was still a possibility
the day we looked up to the sky
and saw the shadow fall over our land
the day we looked past our little war
was the day God began to cry

Tears like jewels from heaven fell
shattering us out of our daze
and this was the day
I witnessed a miracle

and after the shouts of thanks had passed
all I could think about was
how ironic it all is
that we are saved, only because of the pain we create.