Ordinary miracle

Yesterday I dissolved into the bed.

Slightly irritated by the fuss

Of morning birds and chorus

I woke up when sun was far away.

Now there is enough sundust

To gobble up, enough for my starving soul.

Eight AM sunlight hit me hard.

Heart is galloping in every beat.

I am there doing my work.

But the cover carrying heart and others

Is still finding its strength

Cursing and complaining about

Yesterday's squander of good health

Pleading not do it again.

Heart knows what it craves for.

When the body wakes up from its grave

It will do the exact same thing.

This perishable thing, body

is a complaining old woman.

She won't shut up.

Heart disowned her many times

But heart has no mobility 

And every will of it is bound by body.

With creaking sounds body

Was ripped off from the bed,

As it carries the weight of the world.

Almost everyday I think of Lazarus

Not the Lazarus with new spirit

But with that old pathetic spirit.

Lazarus who woke up

when everything fell apart.

Lazarus who waited till apocalypse.

Lazarus who is afraid to die so early

But not too afraid of sleeping.

Every morning I have to win

A battle with muscles bones and spine.

Heart is never tired.

It may take some time to win.

But victory goes with it.

I am Lazarus

And my heart is its Jesus.

It is a miracle.

But it happens.