Monday Meditation: A Thanksgiving Poem
As autumn lifts its lazy head and shakes the leaves forming winter’s bed, I, too, awaken. The chill in the air is a refreshing slap that tracks me back to mindfulness and considered acts of kindness. We’re told to be thankful for this or that, but in truth, I’d rather bury myself under the mat of leaves so graciously laid for the start of winter’s nap. Yet, awoke I am and more aware that too many people don’t want to care about you or me. Fear of the other makes them want to flee the long, dark nights of winter’s strangled light. Thus, thrust into a snap of cold that wraps my soul as a shrink-wrapped scroll of perfect, preserved hope, I turn my focus to the lasting warmth of the spark of God that ignites all souls, and leads me through this troubled world. The winter months are not a blight but a chance to begin anew; to start our days with thanks and grace and spread more love, it’s true. Night cannot last, cold shoulders warm as everyone around the globe reforms. Remember, awaken...
