A Day of Gratitude

A Day of Gratitude

Whenever I have a bad day

    —and who doesn’t?

    the next day must become

        a day of gratitude.

It must be a day

    when I notice clouds

     drifting white, pink or 

        sullen smoke against

        skies of blue or gray—

it must be a day

    when I reread messages

    from loved ones far away—

        echoing sweet

        heart murmurs.

It must be a day

    when I touch a leaf or tree trunk

    wonder at its secret life—

        welcome its wisdom

        to fill my emptiness.

It must be a day

    when I look for beauty

    in every living thing— 

        allowing even rocks pebbles 

        stars to teach me.

It must be a day

    when I permit wind-music birdsong 

    nature-whispers—to echo 

        in deepest bone

        and yearning heart.

It must be a day

    when I forget myself at last

    — this dream I’ve dreamed—

        and embrace miracles.