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To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
every inch of space is a miracle,
every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same,
every cubic foot of the interior swarms with the same;
every spear of grass--the frames, limbs, organs, of men and women, and all that concerns them,
all these to me are unspeakably perfect miracles.
To me the sea is a continual miracle;
the fishes that swim - the rocks - the motion of the waves - the ships, with men in them,
what stranger miracles are there?
— by Walt Whitman
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by Leaves of Grass
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