miracles still happen, and they continue:
indigo tears still flow from scarlet eyes,
coursing down aquamarine cheeks,
heaven’s halcyon hello in staccato sighs,
endless in their empirical beauty,
lingering long in the laughters of leaves,
lighting the world, weaving its wonders,
etched in the timelessness of transience.
transcendence is the how of miracles,
umbilical strings matching mountains with mustard seeds,
mists of maybe melting into obelisks of is,
annihilus of nil; the becoming is the path,
negating the former, ascending new heights,
eternal progression at work. such are miracles:
nexus of all possibles. they happen still, and why not?
godhood is the summative design of faith.
—
written way back in laoag, maybe september-october 2000.
