The Magic Of The Mundane

In the hush of morning light

my teacup steams like a potion,

whispering warmth into my palms.

On some days, sidewalk cracks

bloom with brave little flowers,

tiny guardians of forgotten magic.

Even the wind

that wandering storyteller

tucks secrets into my hair as I pass.

And when the sun slips low,

turning windows into molten gold,

I remember.

I remember that life doesn’t need grand miracles to be extraordinary.

Life only needs one thing.

And that is a heart,

a heart that is willing to see the magic still hiding in plain sight.