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Posts Tagged ‘thank you’

Portal


 
 
Not only the golden yellow belly
of the evening grosbeak as he bobs
below the feeder; not only 
the rich purple flash of the black-chinned
hummingbird charging the air with iridescence;
it could, in fact, be any gray-winged thing, 
even, for instance, a cricket, common as grass,
prehistoric and segmented in its armor, yes,
it could be anything—ant hill, moth dust, 
soft moss, ginger—anything at all
that makes you, for a moment, pause 
to take in the miracle of what is here, and
the attendant miracle that you are here, too,
as witness, and in this pleat of a pause,
you might find yourself stunned with a gratefulness
you could never hope to name, a thanksgiving
beyond the syllables of prayer, a throbbing
thanksgiving for the utter marvel of this life 
that none of us did anything at all to deserve, 
yes, gratefulness for the pausing itself, 
that portal through which we travel 
to find everything, everything is holy,
even the pill bug, even the tick,
even the one who cannot stop stuttering 
thank you, thank you, thank you. 

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“The odds of you being alive are basically zero.”
—Dina Spector reporting the work of Dr. Ali Binazir,
Business Insider, June 11, 2012
 
 
It’s like this. The sun itself
is constantly moving through space,
and yet it never leaves us.
Add this to the list of marvels—
like how a glass of water
was once a cloud,
like how love can grow in us
despite sorrow, fear.
Given such gifts,
one must wonder how it is
our arms aren’t constantly raised
in spontaneous praise for life.
I know and you know
why sometimes our hands stay down.
But now, standing still together,
even as we’re spinning
and racing through space,
even if it’s only a whisper,
when faced with the truth
that great forces hold
our lives in place,
it feels right to say
thank you, thank you,
eyes lifting, heart trembling,
the improbable earth
so solid beneath our feet.
 

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Inside each honest thank you
is a giant open-air pavilion
beside a curving and generous pond

that reflects the sky and is home
to cormorants, white egrets,
turtles, and humble ducks.

There is laughter that rings
through the archways,
wonder that wanders the paths.

There are angels that circle
each thank you spoken with love,
whether we believe in angels or not.

Every sincere expression of thanks
is a choice to meet what is good in the world
and to honor it with our attention.

There are thousands and thousands
of reasons to forget we are grateful,
and yet just one genuine thank you

builds an improbable palace
out of the moment, fills it with beauty,
shares it with the world, asks nothing in return.

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Let’s say we gathered on the street tomorrow,
and let’s say we met in Kazakhstan
on a windy day near the Caspian Shore,
then I would say to you, as the Kazakhs do,
I see the sun on your back.
It means, Thank you for being you.
It means, I am alive because of your help.
Then I would ask to hug you and probably cry
because it’s everything, what you’ve done for me.
And as you walk away, I would marvel
at the radiance beaming from between your shoulders,
shining down your spine. It’s been so dark, and oh,
how you’ve carried me with your light.

Dear Friends, 

In the past four months, I have felt so supported, loved, blessed, encouraged. Thank you. For any way, big or small, that you supported me and my family–sending cards, lighting candles, saying prayers, reaching out to others who are struggling, and so many other beautiful gestures–I thank you. This poem is for you.
Love, 
Rosemerry

PS: This is the website I stumbled on which is a fun source for international idioms such as the one in this poem.

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I want to bring to the doorstep of your heart
a giant bouquet of soft-petalled words,
a lavish bouquet of gratitudes
grown from seed in which each bloom
remembers each time
I watered it, encouraged it,
pulled the weeds from around its stem.
I want to have amended the soil
in which these appreciations grew
with the mycelium of devotion,
the dark compost of love.
It matters, the ways we say thank you.
Those two words disappear from the air
in less than a second,
so is it any wonder, when you
with your love have changed me forever,
that I want to bring you
a whole garden of gratefulnesses
no, a whole field of eternal thank yous
in which every flower is astonishingly open
and the perfume fills
every room in your heart.
 
 

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