Belief in the Breathing Miracle

Shining star beaming light through the glass,
Where was the rainbow while the storm blew past?
Winged song harping through the wind,
Where was the music amidst the sin?

Where were you,
When the prophets preached mankind’s stand?
Where were you,
When the believers killed by “God’s almighty hand?”

I asked these questions sitting on a window sill.
But the answer called out to me upon mind’s still,
The stained glass spoke with blue, yellow, and red.
The voices of the loved, of the dead.

I am a stained glass window through which the light poured,
I reflect God, and at times distorted and twisted the truth,
But the rainbow, music, and answers in me soared,
And the angels shattered the colored illusions of my youth.

I am now a clear and open window,
Through which the light of God shines.
Although I am neither perfect or a hero,
I am a miracle to others, I am a sign.

If you wait for God, you will never see,
Be the miracle, all you have to do is believe.