Miracles are quiet,
great as the blades of mountains
that rise and score the clouds,
rending greater gashes
and letting light inside
a world that’s gone too loud.
Miracles are small
as a child’s feet running home,
thundering down a path like rain
on a summer road: they never stop,
never looking back, yet they fill
rooms with laughing firelight.
Miracles are still
happening like round ripples,
lasting long after the last pebble
has dropped from a child’s hand
playing in the shallows, in the sunset,
unsettling dark dirt with delight.
Miracles are voices
around the supper table, or
on contrary sides of the street, or
bidding good evening or good morning:
never insisting, yet calmly asserting––
if only the world would stop and listen.
Dwelling deep in the forests of New England, Graham spends most of his time reading, taking walks with his dog, and learning new and interesting things (and reveling in cooler, more temperate climates). Born and raised in the Boston area, Graham was homeschooled from an early age. After high school, he proceeded to get a bachelor’s in Literature from Patrick Henry College in Northern Virginia. He currently resides in the Boston area while pursuing a master’s in Education at Gordon College, steeping in the rich history of his home turf and a continued exploration of literature from across the world. He says you should read Alan Paton’s Cry, the Beloved Country and Chaim Potok’s The Chosen, because they are incredible novels. Also, read Robert Frost.