Retellings. Gustav Suits Inspiration Poem by INDREK KOFF

It is so strange.

That's not a proper start.
Or is it?

Fact.
Everything's a miracle.
Your world and a few things in it.
Life.

Your child grows, day by day, hour by hour.
Following you, away from you, and back to you again.
Your own miracle.

Time stands still sometimes, almost carrying you.
It's fractured and the cracks are seeping.
Good, bad, sometimes total chance. You can't grasp it.
You're grateful.
Your own miracle.

It's an ordinary day, even a tiresome one.
Motivation's lacking, but you've got to do it.
One person's slacked off, another's probably drinking again.
You get reamed out to boot, but not even that day
sweeps away all hope.
And there's a sense of relief.
Your own miracle.

Life's not all that short, in truth.
A few times, even you can feel
the sky's sure far-reaching,
but it fits with you, somehow.
That special light and lucidity that bathes all
in true clarity.

And when one day you go, when you return,
when the time you're given is counted
and found to be up,
when the light goes off.
Then, something stays.

It is so strange.