2022 • tuned June 2026
Miracles are
like the respiration of life:
poetry, verse, and universe true —
one verse, one song,
the breathing-in, the breathing-through.
Tears of rage, tears of grief
are miracles of human relief.
Laughter and ecstasy,
the very same water,
sprung from a happier leaf.
Chaos and order, the twin brothers
of that miracle we call immaculate creation:
one breathes in, the other breathes out,
the tide that empties, the tide that fills,
each one the other’s explanation.
Your fingerprint is a miracle.
Look close: a little spiral,
the same swirl as the galaxy,
the whirlpool, the nautilus shell —
the universe signing its name
on every fingertip,
yours like nobody else’s.
It holds the mysteries of fate and fortune,
belly full and beautiful
or singing the blues out of tune,
and either way, the signature holds.
And the nearest miracle of all
is the one you’re doing right now:
the breath that came to you unasked,
that keeps you with no effort of your own,
faithful as the tide, free as the giving.
Male and female, a miraculous match.
Morning and evening, a miraculous batch.
And the door of it all stands open.
Take your next breath and walk through.
Miracles are never locked.
Like Love, there is no latch.
Rob Chavez
© 2026 Rob Chavez. All Rights Reserved.