Thanks Giving

What does thankfulness really mean?

Thankful we are alive?

Thankful we can fish in the streams and pick fruit off vines?

Thankful for a man’s hand at the small of your back?

Thankful for a woman’s yearning eyes?

Thankful when we can stop breathing in memories from the leaving trains?

Thankful for a reverberating heart — or even a still one?

Thankful we can pound at a door and be let in?

Thankful for the soldier’s sacrifice or the peacemaker’s robe?

Thankful for the galloping steed?

Thankful for kindness, cool flesh, the dirt-cleaned vegetables, rising yeast, the gaze of a lover,
the way we watch a child flying through the air on a tire hung from an old tree?

Thankful for a mother’s grasp?

Thankful for the time your dead father whispered to you?

Thankful we didn’t have to drive the hearse?

Thankful the hummingbird soared with nectar?

Thankful we didn’t have to keep our word?

Thankful for our ancestors whose blood, and trust, and hope got us to this paragraph?

Thankful that you can endure a broken body?

Thankful for you? Thankful for me?

Thankful that between all the being born and all the dying, there is the living of this grand green life?

The simple task of looking at this wonderful world and your legs weakening and your eyes trembling as you take it all in.

Thankful for now.


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