something struck me in conversation the other day.
we are all waiting for miracles. we are all waiting to be saved in our own ways. we are all waiting for love to appear. we are all waiting for our dreams to come true.
what if we’ve been waiting all this time for something that looks a certain way to us, but when it appears, it will be almost unrecognizable with a hint of mischief dancing across its eyes? what if it just looks different from what we have imagined– what if our miracles have arrived, but we are too preoccupied with our assumptions to notice?