Today I am thankful that someone at church asked me if I was done with undergrad yet. I feel bad that I looked at her like she was crazy since I graduated 7 years ago. But at least I look good.
Seriously, I’m thankful for a warm house and warm meal. I’m thankful that my brother has a job at school that he loves, even if it means that he has to be away this weekend. I’m thankful I have 6 or 7 jobs I love up in Boston.
I leave you with one of my favorite poems. It’s been described as trite and corny and I don’t care:
Thank you for love, no matter what its outcome,
that leads us to the window in the dark,
that adds another otherness to others,
that holds out stars as if they were first diamonds
found in a mine that had been long closed down,
that hands out suns and makes us ask each morning:
What else do we need, picnickers in time?
Thank you for love that does not hang on answers,
that says, ‘Enough’s enough, to love is plenty…’
— by such signs do we know the world exists,
amo ergo sum, thank you for that.
The miles, the years, the lives that lie between
— they always lay there, and they always will,
but look, the loved one spans the dizzy distance
by the act of being, and we lovers turn
our faces steadily thou -wards as a field
of sunflowers like a tracking station turns,
charting its meaning by the westering sun.
– Bruce Dawe
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