I am grateful for the wind.
Something feels so familiar in the tossing breeze,
As my hair lifts, and skin prickles with cold, or flushes with warmth.
It’s as if someone from beyond a distant veil is reaching out to me,
Allowing me to feel accompanied,
Even as I walk alone.
I’m grateful for the feeling of grass.
Between my bare toes,
Cool, crisp, green.
It makes me shiver with life,
As I lie face down, pressing my body into the earth,
I feel peace.
I am grateful for faith.
Faith is something that can only be grown from within,
From the merest seed planted in soil of hope.
Through the water of actions faith grows.
Sometimes the winds of life batter the growing tree,
And it is partially uprooted from the soil.
Other times the rain stops and the tree wilts,
But as we continue to dig around it’s roots,
And pile on fresh soil and water,
I am grateful for the gift of new life.
We swayed side to side,
Knowing your day had come to enter this world.
Your mother and I stepped together,
Willing her body to bring you forth with a dance.
Around us new mothers brought life into the world,
Bring pain, joy, and the sound of fresh voices to Earth.
You were waiting out the passing storm,
Until with a firm constitution,
And unbending will, your mother brought you into our arms.
Will little coos and a beating heart you greeted us.
We held your naked form to our skin,
Knowing full well just how precious you were.
My little earth-worker.
I am grateful for laughter.
Like a burbling brook,
You calm the troubles of our world.
Not with harshness, crudeness, or malice.
But an outburst of genuine feelings.
A flash of joy, unable to be contained with mortal chest.
It’s a thing that cannot be contained, nor measured.
More healing than all the medicines in existence.
I live for laughter.
I am grateful for a kiss.
Your lips are electrifying,
Being so close to you makes my heart race.
When I can feel your body press against mine,
I feel complete, as a half made whole.
Sometimes it feels like I’ve stepped from the bonds of reality and wandered through the gates of infinity.
I cannot tell between the aging lenses of my eyes if what I behold is a mere figment of my imagination, or solid fact beneath my bones.
So close I feel to the Earth that is my home. Yet at a distance, I am confined by the limits of my feeble mind.
Wake up my vision, shake off the dust of age and take part in the feast all around.