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| a full November moon
Photo by J. Harrington
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The rim of the birdbath is coated with rime ice. The birds, and squirrels, seem thankful to find open water they can drink. I was thankful early this morning for the view of a beautiful full moon setting. The Ojibwe could not have named this month's full moon more appropriately, the Freezing or Freezing Over Moon.
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| deep Winter's rime ice
Photo by J. Harrington
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Have you ever thought about what you use as a baseline for determining gratitude. I never used to, I always wanted "more." Isn't that part of the American Dream? Was it always? The first "Thanksgiving" included Pilgrims who were no doubt thankful they had survived the previous Winter. That's pretty basic.
If you read the postings here with any regularity, you've probably noticed that we include a poem with each day's post. I'm thankful for all the very talented poets who've written the poems we include as complements to the day's theme. Today, we share a Jane Kenyon poem that, we think, fits fantastically with the theme of a baseline that triggers, or should trigger, Thanksgiving.
I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.
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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.
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