Ordinary Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver

I have mourned lost daysWhen I accomplished nothing of importance.But not lately.Lately under the lunar tideOf a woman’s ocean, I workMy own sea-change:Turning grains of sand to human eyes.I daydream after breakfastWhile the spirit of egg and toastKnits together a length of boneAs fine as a wheatstalk.Later, as I postpone weeding the gardenI will make […]

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