Miracles Happen

You know that woman you never want to see again - much less talk to?

I just had lunch with her. 

Why? How?

Miracles.

Miracles happen.

Don't believe me?

Ask the guy to my left. He wasn't going to talk to her either. But he was there. 

And we laughed. And we marveled - unspeaking - at the miracle. 

I think we've put our egos aside. We haven't tried to explain our position or justify anything. The only words we've had related to the dark days are, 

"I'm sorry."

And in forgiveness - deep, true meaningful forgiveness that doesn't keep score - the kind that just yearns for the sunrise. There. I've found miracles.

That is where all my colors come from.

Forgive me.