I see little miracles each and every day
In the sun as it comes up, in the children's play.
In the early morning bird song
As fluffy clouds roll by,
In the music of the cooling breeze,
In the blue of the sky.
The miracle of an opening flower
Full of early morning dew,
And in the turning maple tree
With its lovely golden hue.
Greening grass in early spring,
A lone whippoorwill's call.
The laughter of a little child,
As he watches a red leaf fall.
The silent noise of gentle snow
In the first storm of the year.
Seeing the world in a sheet of white,
And the hoof prints of a deer.
All these miracles near and far
Are for us here on Earth.
In the miracles we see everyday
None compare to Jesus' birth.
Because He came and saved us all
These miracles He gave us free.
To all who have a little faith,
Who have the eyes to see.
So each time I see a little miracle
My eyes turn up above.
Not to the miracle of a sky so blue,
But to Jesus, who gave me love.
©Jane Ellen Slone
September 28, 1977
Revised September 21, 2007
Used With Permission
All Rights Reserved By Author