Gratitude

Yesterday, in the United States, we celebrated our Thanksgiving holiday. Tradition has us gather with family and friends to give thanks for one another, for the harvest and the gifts that life has bestowed upon us.  Ideally, gratitude is a part of our daily experience.  I notice that when I come from a place of gratitude, I am able to better hold the balance with what doesn’t seem to be working (personally and in the world).  There are as many ways to give thanks as there are people.  In autumn, my thoughts are naturally drawn to gratitude for the harvest.  Sometimes this is an internally whispered “thank you.” Other times it is a proclamation delivered on a mountaintop or a feeling of sheer exuberance without words.

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“Harriet Kofalk was a beloved naturalist, author, activist, mother, grandmother, and dear friend to many people worldwide.”

From the book, Earth Prayers, we have Harriet Kofalk’s poem of thanks:

Awakening
in a moment of peace

I give thanks
to the source of all peace

as I set forth
into the day
the birds sing
with new voices
and I listen
with new ears
and give thanks

nearby
the flower called Angel’s Trumpet
blows
in the breeze
and I give thanks

my feet touch the grass
still wet with dew
and I give thanks
both to my mother earth
for sustaining my steps
and to the seas

cycling once again
to bring forth new life

the dewdrops
become jeweled
with the morning’s sun-fire
and I give thanks

you can see forever
when the vision is clear
in this moment
each moment
I give thanks.

WRITING PROMPT:
Harriet’s poem is one of both gratitude and presence.  Write your own poem of gratitude. You could start by listing some of the things you feel grateful for today and develop your unique gratitude poem from that list. Or, you can borrow Harriet’s line “I give thanks…” and allow your own poem to evolve from her line prompt.

Wait a few days and then spend some time crafting your poem. 

Mt. Shasta on election day

I give thanks for where I live.

 

Faith

Autumn
by Rainer Maria Rilke

The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up,
as if orchards were dying high in space.
Each leaf falls as if it were motioning “no.”

And tonight the heavy earth is falling
away from all the other stars in the loneliness.

We’re all falling.  This hand here is falling.
And look at the other one…It’s in them all.

And yet there is Someone, whose hands
infinitely calm, hold up all this falling.

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This poem is a metaphor for faith.  Many poets have written about faith.  It is a worthy topic. 

 

 

The poet, David Whyte, reads his poem, Faith. It is about his desire for faith and his uncertainty about where or if it is to be found. This poem is a man’s prayer for faith in something greater. I’ve mentioned earlier than any poem deserves at least two readings.  David Whyte does this for us…his style of reading  is to repeat a poem numerous times.  Through that repetition, I am touched at a deeper level.  As a listener, I am engaged more fully in the life of the poem…where it sprung from and what the poet invokes, desires or designs.

Writing Prompt:
Have you written about faith?  That word, the concept behind it, takes the writer on a journey into his/her own deep psyche.  Exploring your views on faith, might
create a vulnerability that many want to avoid.  Today, I am going to allow myself to be that vulnerable and write about faith, quietly, here at my desk in my little cottage in the mountains as I look out upon the Autumn colors, the leaves falling, a confetti of colors lying on the ground.