PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He spat at her crassly, "There are no miracles girl."

This the final blow to send her over the edge, for if it be true, how then would she make it to the end of her life, unless the end be right around the corner. Sore from being battered about the head by cynicism, beaten down, bruised by the acrimonious attitudes of the hidebound, she firmly resolved to refuse to be a part of it, this world devoid of miracles. But what now, was she to become like those ash-smeared sadhus & sage ascetics wandering the sandalwood forests along the foothills of the Himalayas, adhering to none but the voice of their gods. She would allow that anything was possible, made a vow to think not of tomorrow but live only for today and to follow with devotion wherever Spirit led. Thus miracles formed the foundation upon which her existence was built.