See our Privacy Policy
Gratefulness
—for Papa
Sitting on the deck by the river hushed and soft with the light of spring’s lullaby, I felt you pierce the thin veil between us, as you did when I dreamt of you on the slow train. Your face leaned into the sun with a boy’s pure joy, your sunset face leaned back into shadow.
You taught me to swim blue-black waters in Laurentian Mountain lakes. I was afraid of not touching the ground of fur-lined snakes dragging me down. You backed up slowly into deeper water just close enough for me to paddle into the harbor of your arms. You coaxed me forward leap by leap until you believed, I could swim dark waters alone.
Love is a leaking rowboat that welcomes each wave.
Sitting on the deck by the river, rocking on swells of gratitude, I watch a drawbridge open its gates to let sail by a ship named Serenity.
Posted by kind permission of the poet.
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