We have a history now,
Rich with account and act,
Long as a Congress or a war,
As worn with poverty and hope as any nation,
Or as our lives before we met.
None of this was miracle.
The sea does not need our sacrifices.
Rain is not God's thought for us.
Stars are not holes shot through a stone canopy into sacred light.
Winter can turn to summer without our prayer
And fall to winter as before.
If I embrace you, you will weep.
If you leave me, I will endure.
There are reasons. We have learned what they are.
A miraculous change would have taught us nothing
But praise.