MIRACLES

One day, I was browsing the net looking for nothing. it was more to kill the time, and by  that, i came across to an interesting poem by Walt Whitman. I don't know title, but the issue pointed in it is so simple and common to be noticed and archived in a poem by most people. Whitman did it!MIRACLE is everywhere, and we just don't see it, or regard it as a miracle. Well try to read it first:)

Why! who makes much of a miracle?

As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles,

Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,

Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,

Or wade with naked feet along the beach, just in the edge of the water,

Or stand under tress in the woods,

Or talk by day with anyone I love - or sleepin the bed at night with any one I love,

Or sit at table at dinner with my mother,

Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,

Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive, of a summer forenoon,

Or animals feeding in the fields,

Or birds-or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,

Or the wonderfulness of the sun-down-or stars shining so quiet and bright,

Or the exquisite, delicate, thin curve of the new moon in spring;

Or whether I go among those I like best, and that like me best-mechanics, boatmen,farmers,

Or among the savans-or to the soiree-or to the opera,

Or stand a long while looking at the movemnets of machinery,

Or behold children at their sports,

Or the admirable sight of the perfect old man, or the perfect old woman,

Or the sick in hospitals, or dead carried to burial,

Or my own eyes and figure in the glass;

These with me the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,

The whole referring-yet each distinct, and in its place.

To me, every hour of the light and dark is miracle,

Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,

Every square yard of the surface of earth is spread with the same,

Every foot of the interior swarms with the same;

Every spear of grass-the frames, limbs, organs of men and women, and all that concerns them,

All these to me are unspeakably perfect miracles.

To me the sea is a continual miracle;

The fishes that swim-the rocks-the motion of the waves-the ships, with men in them,

What stranger miracles are there?

by Walt Whitman

what have been listed in Whitman's are just a tiny portion of the number of miracles in this universe, both seen and unseen. normally, people would exclaim miracle with wonder and disbelief only when they encountered with something that doesnt happen everyday. For example, when a man gives birth to a child. or recovering so well after a fatal accident.

cherish the invisible miracles around us for a better life..! and you will love yourself more..

i know i will :)