“miracle Hunting”

Miracle Hunting

Out before dawn in the hush of the dew,  
With a heart that remembers what wonder can do,  
I shoulder a bag where hope lightly sings—  
Out in the wild, I go seeking for things.  

Not gold in the river, nor wishing-star shards;  
Not barnacled secrets in soft oyster guards.  
No, I’m tracking the shimmer that sidles unseen—  
The turn in the story, the crack in routine.  

Miracles hide in the plainest of days—  
A sparrow’s quick hymn on a tangle of maize,  
A bridge made of laughter between two old friends,  
The sapling that fights for a light that descends.  

Sometimes I find them in moments so small:  
A raindrop caught dancing, the hush before fall,  
A child’s honest question, a neighbor’s kind bread—  
These treasures I pocket, then carry ahead.  

Perhaps you are hunting for something grander,  
Lighting a candle, a wish or meander—  
But I’ve learned that wonders, they don’t need parades,  
They shimmer in quiet and soften sharp days.  

So if you should catch me out wandering, smiling,  
You’ll know what I seek; you might see me compiling  
A pocket of marvels, all humble and true—  
For miracle hunting is hunting for *you*.

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