This poem is called Miracle

It is pinkish , it is reddish
When the dawn turning to morning ,
Another miracle waiting for us when the world turns anew .
It is bright like white-crystal glow spreading everywhere ,
When the morning turning to day another miracle waiting for us .
Waves of rivers dazzling and sparkling when sun shines again ,
Another miracle another miracle another life brand new is waiting for us .

This life we call our own
Is neither our own nor for other’s ,
It is gifted , it is a flame to burn between birth and death .
We can do all we do by using our flames , .
Dawn to morning , morning to day , and towards end of the day
We are burning we will burn , it is miracle, it is miracle ,
Miracle is that life goes on , life goes on….