The Miracle of Waking

I open my eyes to a brand new day, struggling to focus but manage it anyway

It’s such a miracle that I’m able to see, my ears prick up so naturally,

and then I quell the alarm,

noting fingers in full working order on my hand,

the wrist and the arm,

the complexity of which I could never understand,

but the wrist twists as it should, fingers bend and flex

And while I’d like to stay in bed if I could, I do what’s next

and swing my legs out from under the sheet

and in a heartbeat, I’m on my feet.

So basically I can see, I can hear, and I can feel.

I skip down the steps on very capable legs, my toes, ankle and heel

are equally able

to carry me swiftly to my breakfast table,

while my back supports my every move,

yet I forget to note my brain fires on all synapses to prove

it works automatically

And that these aspects of being are in themselves tiny miracles to me

I take for granted these wonders; these feats I hardly notice day by day

How unconscious am I of all I can do,

Sadly one of my life's blunders, till maybe some part that used to work then fails to.

And every twinge or ache is like the proverbial teacup storm,

when I swear it isn’t fair

all this grief I have to bear

when pains persist as I try to exist in some perceived diminished form

It’s blessings such as waking that I behold but never always act as if I know,

and go about my day with a frown sometimes and feeling low,

dwelling on the things that I don’t have instead of what I do,

but that’s nothing new.

Then every so often it hits me that I move around my life with ease

And marvel, if you please,

at what’s bestowed on me,

and fairly clear to see,

a wretched soul ungrateful to the last am I,

never wondering why

I can achieve what I achieve when all I need to do is breathe

And breath is there within the air and free,

for once again when I go to sleep at night and dream,

I have no idea if I will wake, then all too soon the alarm or a sunbeam

will make

my closed eyelids open once again,

onto another brand new day, and then,

within the warmth of my bed where I am tuck,

I will say to myself, woohoo I awoke,

and it was more than just a stroke of luck.