MIRACLES

I sit and bask in the morning glow
and gaze at the rising sun.
I praise my God for the gift of sight.
A Miracle He’s done.

I close my eyes and listen
for the Larks’ melodious song.
I praise my God for the gift of sound
and rejoice the whole day long.

I stroll along the woodland path
and smell the bark and leaves.
I praise my God for the gift of scent
and the visions that it weaves.

I break the bread and fellowship
with those I’ve come to love.
I praise my God for the gift of taste,
a gift from up above.

My body exposed to the open air
caressed by wind and sun.
I praise my God for the gift of touch,
a Miracle He’s done.

I stand before both man and God
naked without shame.
I thank my God for the gift of life
and praise His Holy name.

Some will scoff and close their hearts
to things that God has done.
“There are no miracles,” they say,
“No, not even one.”

Some search the world and hope each day
a miracle to see.
I wake each day and realize,
The miracle is “me”.