A miracle is rare you say
Perhaps they don't exist.
Such a thing is dreamers play
Wise skeptics do insist.

And yet there still is wonder
At things we can't explain.
But no miracles to ponder
For such folly is in vain.

Surrounding us ubiquitous, unhidden
But we recognize them not.
And dare not go unbidden
Via foreign lanes of thought

And never stop to think or ask
How all we know and see.
Is synaptic junctions at their task
And is all that we may be.

From gurgling sounds to fine syntax
And more we know as time does lapse.
Inquisitive our nature asks
Could be a miracle perhaps?