Miracle

Sweet angel, who comes-
A breath of wind so sad,
Bruised in the broken tumult,
Lost in a sea of anger;

The poorest man could save her,
So I did, and was blest
With joy- her eyes opened,
She saw what I was.

"Madam, you are restless,"
Her bright eyes said.
"Madam, you are weary.
Madam, we are both lost,
You and I."

To love, to be held
So close- no easy thing.
The arms are wider, wider
Until they hold the world.