See our Privacy Policy
Gratefulness
I could not predict the fullness of the day. How it was enough to stand alone without help in the green yard at dawn.
How two geese would spin out of the ochre sun opening my spine, curling my head up to the sky in an arc I took for granted.
And the lilac bush by the red brick wall flooding the air with its purple weight of beauty? How it made my body swoon,
brought my arms to reach for it without even thinking.
* In class today a Dutch woman split in two by a stroke – one branch of her body a petrified silence, walked leaning on her husband
to the treatment table while we the unimpaired looked on with envy. How he dignified her wobble, beheld her deformation, untied her
shoe, removed the brace that stakes her weaknesses. How he cradled her down in his arms to the table smoothing her hair as if they were
alone in their bed. I tell you – his smile would have made you weep.
* At twilight I visit my garden where the peonies are about to burst.
Some days there will be more flowers than the vase can hold.
Posted with kind permission of the poet. All rights reserved.
Two nights after he died, all night I heard the same one-line story on repeat:…
For times of grief and sorrow, we offer this curated collection of poems as a…
Somewhere someone needs help. Send love. It matters. If you can’t get there yourself, then…
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 - 2022, A Network for Grateful Living
Website by Briteweb