Saints on Horseback

We communicate in some different language,
not so much words as a movement of the body
or lifting of the eyes.
“Goodnight” you would say
with the passing of your hand,
a subtle eclipse over your lips.
I’ve come to understand miracles
in a silent, awing fashion-
“Saints should be on horseback,” you said
“Imagine the freedom,
the access and mobility.”
Can people like us have faith
in all the every day things?
Can I speak with my mortal heart,
see reason with my mortal eyes,
feel something with the flesh of my fingers
that so far has gone unobserved-
Would i kiss you and find your mouth
nothing less than miraculous?
Your thoughts are unchartered territory, i know-
but they are mine.