other miracles

I want to remember what life felt
like to be new. I want fresh and
fearless experience, unhindered by human
drama and dreary cynicism. I'm tired of
having the purity of my joy diluted by
the derision of others or my own jaded mind.

I want to experience the world as a child,
with wonder and awe. It is not enough
for me to stand under the sky and
bask in the warmth of the sun, I need to
marvel at these things and respect them
for the miracles that they are.

I should start by recognizing love in my
life in all of its forms and to stop taking
it for granted. There must be a way for
me to reach out with my purest forms
of love without being overwhelming or
insufferable, and I must find this balance.

Love, and joy, and other miracles,
so elusive these days. Or perhaps just without
their proper pallette, unable to color
the world the way I dream I could.