Whispers of Miracles

In quiet corners of the day,

Where light and shadow softly play,

A breath of hope, a silent gleam—

The world unfolds a waking dream.

Not thunder loud, nor skies aflame,

But subtle sparks with no clear name:

A stranger's hand, a healing tear,

A child who laughs despite the fear.

The flower blooming through the stone,

The heart that finds it’s not alone,

The storm that breaks, but leaves behind

A brighter dawn, a gentler mind.

These are the truths we often miss—

In moments small, the grandest bliss.

Not magic spun from distant stars,

But grace in all the things we are.

So open eyes and hush the doubt,

Let wonder in, let silence shout—

For miracles are born, not made,

In every step, in light and shade.