When the light of hope is dying
And the soul’s energy is bleak
And the eyelids heavy
Struggling to open
Amidst the weight of the heart’s
despondent calls
A small, hidden, and tiny voice,
From the core of my being whispers
‘I know You can make miracles happen.’
Nothing is difficult for Him who
Evolves and sustains the multitudes
Of lives
Each traveling its own
specific course of mysteries unfolding
More than a trillion souls, traversing the worlds
Some on earth, and many in the barzakh
He is aware of all
Every inch of movement and thought
Is not He, who is capable
of feats so great and wondrous
and with magnitudes unable to be counted
able to create and sustain this miracle?
He, whose mercy is more vast
than the oceans of space between the galaxies
Whose power and wisdom so grand,
beyond our capacity to understand.
Whose nature of giving
Whose readiness of bestowing
Whose eagerness of providing
Is beyond human enumeration
and comprehension.
I beg Thee, Thou who are so great
that my existence becomes a shadow
fading into non-existence.
I beg thee, Thou who are so capable
that places me at utter reliance
submission, and brokenness.
To grant this undeserving soul,
this wretched heart,
this struggling and rusted mirror,
This miracle.
I know You can make miracles happen.
