Admit

Admit: life is littered with miracles,
pregnant, bursting, fecund with the decay
of every squirming offshoot, lyrical
as chaos unfolding, forcing its way.

Acknowledge: all miracles are neutral
in effect. That you don't see is a trick
of perspective; the universe, frugal 
and cold, has no intent and does not pick.

Apprehend: what consumes you is never
a consideration. Your fall has no
impact; your weightless want is no lever
to move the miraculous world. And so,

Submit. The world, physical, is just there:
does not watch, does not wish, and does not care.