Ordinary Miracles

Prompt: Ordinary Miracles


The miracle isn't walking on water, it's walking on the earth.
 — Thich Nhat Hanh

The TV tells me of the miracle
 of modern manufacturing.  I look.
The first one rolls off the line, perfect.
 The second one just like it, the third
is boring, the fourth not a miracle

The sorcerer's apprentice waved
 his master's wand, the broom grew arms,
picked up the bucket and started
 to fill the basin, a miracle.
A second, a third, and so on.
 The miracle turns ordinary.

A miracle by definition isn't repeatable.

These are not miracles.  Now each tomorrow
 is not a day we've ever seen before.
Each person, dog, tree we meet
 is a miracle that will not be repeated.
See that in every person, every rock & tree,
 everyday.  Each a miracle.
Seeing that is a miracle.


     Eames Rocker

What is style before it is hip,
before it's part of a school, has a name?
When it's affordable, but innovative, before
it's Mid-Century Modern and authentic
vintage competes with authentic reproduction.
I came out of the Eames Studio, built
of fiberglass, rather ordinary metal, two
wooden rockers of solid, commonplace wood.
I sat family, company, small children
two at a time.  Turned over
I was a tank, a submarine, inspiration
for B.C.'s bird riding a turtle.  I've
lost count of how many times
I've been moved, tossed in on top
of a trailerful of clothes, books,
other furniture.  Somewhere along the way,
imperceptibly, the surface coat's worn off,
the wooden rocker cracked and repaired,
the children, one then the other left me
upright, just a chair among adults
without the imagination to turn me
over into a tank, a cave, anything
other than a vintage Eames rocker,
too hip to discard, too fragile to be used,
too far from affordable & innovative, too
worn to be the museum display for
Mid-Century Modern!

— Jeffery Taylor


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