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Orange autumn leaf

Like mist our sense of

thanks can drift away.

We lose perspective.

We forget we are blessed.

We allow ourselves to be

trampled by the ever on-

going rush of living.

We become consumed rather

than consumers. Hearts not

aware of how much we have.

In its place is what we lack.

Or we ever-dance to detail.

Bounty unrealized.

Unnoticed in the flood.

Gratitude for life,

Gratitude for the

opportunity of choice.

Gratitude for love.

For the moments to love.

Gratitude for times past,

Gratitude for simple things.

Basic things, for elemental

things. For fire, food, friends.

For touch, sight, hearing.

For passion to care,

for grief that touches on love.

Oh Great Spirit, we squander

away the hours, often dulled,

unaware of the festival of

light, the ocean waters

in which we swim.

To be released is what we

yearn for. To be freed is

gratitude’s invitation

to the dance.

Make us draw deeply

from the well of what

this world offers.

We thank you for sight.

But are amazed at the

optics of beauty we see.

Gratitude waits for when

the thank-you grows silent.

When words depart.

It alights when we are filled

with amazement, toppled by

the unexpected, caught up

in the wild ceilidh of

life and of living.

Gratitude lives in the bones.

Gratitude is the

singer of songs

but can never

be the song.

Gratitude is


to Mystery.

Gratitude waits

for the dog

to finally


at the moon.

Horses on beach

A work in progress, taken from a

new book with the working title:

Spirit Journey - Free-Verse Poetry

for the Christian Heart.

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