Max in the window

In the backyard
with a leaf blower
Life is loud, sweaty, dusty
Hard to breath, hard to see

There's a knock on the window
and looking up, through squinting eyes,
There is my seven year old, Max

She is waving at me
She is grinning
a huge silly, happy, smile
Life is a miracle

She is inside, I am outside
but she can see me
I am in a storm of swirling leaves
and a racket of electric noise and wind
And she is in a still, quiet bedroom
and yet we are right next to each other
waving
Life is a miracle

A thing called glass exists
to allow us to coexist
in separate worlds
she's heard it's made of sand that's been heated
a magical process that facilitates this joy
she isn't thinking about that now
just celebrating the moment
Life is a miracle

She is done waving and off to create worlds
I am back to my chores with that grin
bigger than the universe
enveloping me
making me remember
Life is a miracle