Open your hands, lift them.
—William Stafford, “Today”
The parking space beside the store when you
were late. The man who showed up just in time
to hold the door when you were juggling five
big packages. The spider plant that grew—
though you forgot to water it. The new
nest in the tree outside your window. Chime
of distant church bells when you’re lonely. Rhyme
of friendship. Apples. Sky a trove of blue.
And who’s to say these miracles are less
significant than burning bushes, loaves
and fishes, steps on water. We are blessed
by marvels wearing ordinary clothes—
how easily we’re fooled by simple dress—
Oranges. Water. Leaves. Bread. Crows.
Posted by kind permission of Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer.
Holy Earth, Holy Cosmos, I bow before you With my whole being. Holy Creatures, Holy…
The optometrist says my eyes are getting better each year. Soon he’ll have to lower…
We are living now our regrets and our failures, the ache of what we wish could be again,…
This site is brought to you by A Network for Grateful Living, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit. All donations are fully tax deductible in the U.S.A.
© 2000 - 2019, A Network for Grateful Living
Website by Briteweb