Have you ever looked at something mundane, something arbitrarily unimportant, and seen a miracle? Like a beautiful sunset, in the middle of a month of beautiful sunsets... where it's there, frequently, and you pass by it except this time, this moment. And suddenly it becomes something much more than just a sunset, or a mountain, or a song, or a story, or a tear... it's a miracle. It's a glimpse of something greater. It's what each of us intrinsically are.
The ability to be consumed in simple clarity is more natural than what we condition ourselves to be in a busy world of faux progress, pride and purpose. Things, immaterial, little things are supposed to matter to us. They are supposed to indicate to our forgetful minds that we are not just here, we are meant to be here, and not meant to stay. Those euphoric and fleeting moments where everything makes sense, where all you know is hope and optimism are "but muffled memories of what once was, and will again be."
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