For all the things I am thankful for—
the silver linings that are often sewn
in tarnished gold;
for the golden globe that covers the earth in light,
the pearl that glows at night,
the diamonds upon which wishes have been made;
for the wrinkle in the sky
which separates the land from the sapphire sea
that turns emerald in the day;
for the ruby-red hearts called strawberries.
For cool tile under bare feet on a hot day,
the softness of fuzzy socks in the winter that
let me slide on hardwood floors;
for the feeling of the water mister on my face
in a park on a summer’s day,
or lying under a fan with the windows open
with the sounds of the rain and thunder—
a soothing static.
For the aroma of chocolate chip cookies baking,
filling the house with eyes-closed memories;
for pasta dinners al fresco,
by moonlight and candlelight.
For the smell of ripening peaches at a roadside stall,
and snow that’s the stuff of childhood fun;
for seventy-two degree weather in winter,
and air-conditioning in summer.
For the seashells that wash upon the beach after a storm
like unburied treasures;
for the gentle gulf breezes that tangle my wispy hair,
and the stillness that warms my skin.
For goodness for goodness’ sake,
for the playful antics of dogs and children,
and for joy that goes beyond mere happiness.
For microscopes that help us see old things in new ways;
for the technology that has enhanced communication
for music, that touches us on a deeper level,
and for art, that moves us;
for books, that take us away from it all,
and for life, that draws us back in.
For the holidays that mark our calendars,
for the regular days that fill in, in-between—
for all are dots on the maps of our lives,
so that we can say we have been places—
that we have truly lived.