Written Words – Quiet Days

I don’t peddle prayers often. But the irony implicit in this one is cause for repetition.

Never have I gotten so close.

I never saw this as a house of cards, which made its crashing all the more forceful.

Blindsided by the first punch, it was understandable, but now an experienced boxer, I dust myself off and stand.

Shoulders back.

Eyes clear.

The Bible didn’t warn me – the hardest part of turning the other cheek was standing up to let it happen again.

It seems a long time since innocent laughter, but on the good days it echoes through my head, clear and joyous.

I can still smile, and that is something.

Sometimes miracles need not be impossible, only implausible.

When prayers slip into smiles I let them.
On quiet days, it is the simple victories I cherish.

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