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The ponds don’t pine for a miracle
Flowing towards the river’s mouth
But just prefer a deeper water
To sink, certain which way is south

The winds don’t howl for a miracle
Blowing so the trees can dance
Just to see some peaceful sway
Motion, beauty in changing stance

The birds don’t sing for a miracle
Chirping so the young can learn
Just so, but more than instinct
Offspring, so love’s candle can burn

I will not hope for a miracle
Wasting efforts on an unsure thing
No need to search for something more
Nature, every miracle I ever dreamed