The Miraculous
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On a night last month
a full moon rose above
the city skyline across the bay
and sent its light to dance
on the water around my feet.
It had traveled a long way
to reach me and seemed as if
it was infused with the miraculous.
I bent down and scooped up
a little of the light.
It felt alive, trembling
in the cupped palm of my hand,
so fragile in the gravity
of this angry world.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2024
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