Miracle Hunger

People die for miracles,
Die questing for miracles,
Somewhere in the human world

Every hour of every day.
The simplest explanation
Seems to be relentless hope

That solutions can be found
When the one hoping believes
That solutions can’t be found—

So, sometimes, when one is found,
An actual solution
After all, people insist

That it was a miracle.
Continuing to find none,
However, doesn’t stop hope,

And hope is exploitable,
And people exploit people.
People die for miracles

From people who exploit them.
Still, that’s somehow not enough.
Solutions may not be sought,

And still the hunger remains
To witness a miracle.
And who knows why it remains,

Why supernatural tales
Are loved by level-headed
People—why Taoists accept

Emptiness in the Way, yet
Constantly play at magic.
What is it the hunger’s for?

Say gravity could switch off
Locally, killing no one—
That would be a miracle.

Would people be happy then,
Live contented, so much fun?
This hunger is for something

That could make life miserable.
Think of just how terrible
Life might be with miracles.