“I Do Not Walk on Water” (a poem)

In passing, I shared this poem as part of a delightful online class with John Dominic Crossan and Tripp Fuller. Several participants asked for the poem.

You can watch past and future class sessions here: http://www.crossanclass.com/.


I do not walk on water

Except in winter,

When ice makes the miracle more natural.

To me, these days, natural miracles are better,

Signifying lessons to live rather than shortcuts to take,

A more subtle yet more real magic.

For me, nature is already as supernatural

As it needs to be.

The simplest, humblest things —

Green moss on grey rock,

Spotted turtle basking in a shaft of sunlight —

They are true signs and wonders,

Holy, significant, wonderful.

I used to crave miracles to prove something

(most especially, myself, my faith, my tribe’s exceptionalism).

Now, instead of the miracle,

I try to keep my eyes open for the meaningful.

That these sounds in air or these marks on paper

Could bear my heart to yours,

Or bring what you see to my eyes … what

Could be more miracle?