Gratitude 9

Beyond the normal, everyday,

The living and the breathing of,

The gratitudes that come my way,

That easily fill my daily prays.

The sun that warms my morning skin,

Or day that gently goes my way,

For food and home, for happy heart,

These are the easy gratitudes.

But in moments of a deeper tone,

When all has crumbled into dust,

And watching helpless I’m alone,

Unable then to see or hope.

Those the moments, those the times,

When hope was lost and fear began,

That tiny gratitudes pour out,

For truth of love, and gentle heart.

Those smallest gratitudes we miss,

Until we fear the loss of them,

And in re-finding can rejoice,

To pray in thankfulness again.

a Bestiary, England ca. 1200-1210 (British Library, Royal 12 C XIX, fol. 6r) lions licking cubs

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