Bold leaves cling to branches
looming winter’s fateful fall
holding on for hope that wayward
winds don’t make the call
resisting dried up remnants
so surrendered to the ground
they shimmer in the sunlight
autumn’s glory all around
for soon will come a day when
breezes blow, their final chance
they break from loyal roots
to ride a changing season’s dance.
That Attitude of Gratitude you’ve heard of so often…it rings all the bells on this, my most favorite holiday of Thanksgiving.
A day that invites indulgent meals, wrapped in sentimental flavors, sprinkled with friends and family, nostalgic recipes and daily woes respite. I love how the holidays entertain inevitable conversations/thought strains of reflection…I’ve seen many an annual Turkey dinner away from my family while living abroad, sharing American traditions with European family I came to know and love…many a tear strewn bike ride home being thankful for Skype, but yearning for the comforts of home.
There is so much to be said for these rare gatherings of loved ones new & old, sharing in the levity of appreciation. Sending thankfulness into a world so often overlooked, passed by with the rush of future’s plans and promises. Simply stopping to acknowledge all of the good—the very gift of the present.
As we gear up to begin our Nutcracker Marathon over at the Boston Opera House tomorrow night, I’ve sustained many a sleepless night…restless body, crowded mind…Usually when this happens I indulge myself in Midnight Poetry, the remnants of which you may have shared here during Swan Lake, or here during last year’s Yuletide classic.
This week’s musings surrendered to the strength of lingering leaves, which I happily stumbled upon during my morning walk with Oliver today. So I’ll leave you with this:
An extra dose of gratitude for your readership of my chronicles, for the light that you each bring to this great world, for the endless inspiration you continue to seek in giving thanks.
let’s dance with the season’s shall we?