Under the deepest blue canopy
I search for miracles as I watch
my toddler in his fleece-lined jeans
run against the pull of stiff fabric.
He is like a pigeon determined to get away.
He walks through the leaves with
a stick in his hand.
He is not afraid to run off
into the road.
As I pull him back from the curb,
I imagine the baby in a manger,
fragile and brand new,
safe in his own mother’s arms.