For Thanksgiving, a Poem

Because I am thankful for, among many, many other things, poetry, I give you this, by Mary Oliver.

Morning Poem 

Every morning
the world
is created.
Under the orange

sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches ---
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands

of summer lilies.
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries within it

the thorn
that is heavier than lead ---
if it's all you can do
to keep on trudging ---

there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted ---

each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,

whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.

Happy Thanksgiving

"It is literally true, as the thankless say, that they have nothing to be thankful for. He who sits by the fire, thankless for the fire, is just as if he had no fire. Nothing is possessed save in appreciation, of which thankfulness is the indispensable ingredient. But a thankful heart hath a continual feast." ~ W. J. Cameron

Long Time, No Post

Well, here I am again...things have been slightly insane in the land of broken hearts the past two months, but I am enjoying some (much needed) quiet relaxation time with my family over the Thanksgiving break. I'll be heading back to life as usual far too soon but I think the worst of the busy-ness is over for me and I'll be back to posting regularly from here on out. (Let's keep those fingers crossed, shall we?)

I was interviewed for an article on stillbirth for Pregnancy Today a month or two ago; you can find the link here if you'd like to read it.

I hope all of you who celebrate Thanksgiving had a day full of gratitude and peace.