The miracle

Oh how I wonder why apples are round
Why nature has riches and terrors abound
I wonder why birds are made to fly
Why are there creatures on sea, land and sky

And why was I made with an urge to write
With words and thoughts entertain and delight
And why does a good rhyme warm my soul
When my heart speaks and the mind looses control

And why do I often forget to wonder
In hectic life the miracle goes under
Taken for granted the sun and the thunder
Taken for granted this wonderful world

But if I get to be 100 years old
I want these questions to always stay

For being alive is a miracle
The only riddle that has no answer

And I hope I will always see it that way