Wading through a mundane one
Floating past one, commonplace
I reached the shores of yet another
I had been eyeing for some time
Waking up from an eye-opening one,
having slept through yet another deadly one,
I breathed an airy one,
filling me with yet another ordinary one,
to walk on a moving one
without letting me stumble on a firm one
The sleep, the waking,
the breath, the earth,
just the day and every moment of it,
ordinary,
mundane,
run of the mill,
commonplace.
Not one
short of a miracle,
nothing unlike itself.
And yet I wait
for the sky to tear up,
the earth to open up
and a miracle
to envelope
my audacious ignorance/ audacity of my ignorance
(the greatest of them miracles).
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