waiting on the cusp of the night

for a moment of dawn light

a moment of healing

i would call it down myself

if i could waiting for the miracle yet to be seen

an angel walking across the snow

leaving no footprints

slowly as if to save all his strength

for the touch we need

or a shaman shaking down cures

from his reindeer bone rattle

seeing in the darker world the light

that will release us all from pain

a saint of white slim fingers

smiling faintly as the spirit

surges in his touch

and we are healed

in a final moment

a miracle

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