The Shape Of Gratitude - Poem
My first attempt at a poem
It's an elusive thing
This thing called gratitude
When the world is on fire
We can't hear or see the shape of tyranny
Oppression finding its way into the hearts and minds
of those who would be our neighbors
Yet our hearts beat on
and the sun rises and falls
And the seasons pass like strangers
yet I have found gratitude
It lives in the trees, and the flow of water
it whispers on the wind that pushes us towards the fall
and I see it in all things, the kind smile of a jogger
and even though some give me the look of barely disguised contempt
I have gratitude because I am as I was meant to be.