It was a miracle we lived --
What we felt a desert barren
where all was lost to time
became wellspring of promise, pure
waters of life flowing freely
into humanity.

From far distance, we bear witness
to bountiful harvest of fruit
from humble olive tree,
our hearts laid bare by age of peace,
long-awaited sign of our spring
and the white dove's return.

We step forth into a new world,
born because we are and have been
laid out, pressed, perfected,
wholly formed, transformed completely
into blessed love we once knew.
I was blind and now see:

When you turned water into wine,
it was a sign of things to come,
of who we were to be;
yet, we could scarce have held it then --
a truth so vast and beautiful,
required expansion.

"New wineskins," you said. We knew not
you spoke of our own expansion,
blessed capacity
to become vessels filled with love,
mutliplied in remembrance,
wed now to present joy.

It is a miracle we live.