(from a friend of a friend)
and what a confession
that we should set aside one day a year
and call it Thanksgiving.
I smile at the presumption,
and hope you smile, too.
But the truth is,
That my words can’t carry all the praise
I want them to
or that they should,
no matter how many trips they make.
So this day,
all is praise and thanks
for all my days.
I breathe and it is your breath that fills me.
I look and it is your light by which I see.
I move and it is your energy moving in me.
I listen and even the stones speak of you.
I touch and you are between finger and skin.
I think and the thoughts are but sparks
from the fire of your truth.
I weep and your Spirit broods over me.
I long and it is the tug of your kingdom.
Oh Glorious One,
for this curious day,
for the impulses that have designated it,
for the gifts that grace it,
for the gladness that accompanies it,
for my life,
for those through whom I came to be,
for friends through whom I hear and see
greater worlds than I otherwise would,
for all the doors of words and music and worship
through which I pass to larger worlds,
and for the One who brought a kingdom to me
I pause to praise and thank you
with this one more trip of words
which leaves too much uncarried,
but not unfelt, unlived, unloved.