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Thanksgiving
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Thanksgiving |
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SPIRIT Senior Member
since 2002-12-29
Posts 1745California Desert |
Spiritual Scribe I sit here On my allotted cloud, Quill in hand, Wondering what to write In the Ledger of Life. I am a Spiritual Scribe, Or a Heavenly Journalist, If you will…my assignment today Visit a house of wealth, A house of just enough And a house of lack. To chronicle Whether or not Thanksgiving Was still a day Of Thanksgiving. I entered comfortably Through the walls Of the house of wealth. I am but an ethereal mist Unseen to the living eye. The house was filled with laughter, Little girls in pretty dresses, Boys in Sunday best Playing, teasing, having fun. Women fixing the table, Men, sharing comradely chit chat And watching the television. I moved silently and effortlessly To a large portrait… Such a handsome young man Full of life with laughing eyes. The sideboard top beneath Was clad in a black runner, Atop of which sat many photographs Of this same young man, I saw by the pictures He was a New York City fireman. On a September day, I know…he lost his life. Time to eat, The adults sat around a large table Weighted down with turkey And all the trimmings. The children sat at smaller tables, Scattered, but close. There was one chair that sat empty, At the head of the table, With a black ribbon Caressing the wooden back. The place name said…Larry. Hands held, Blessings said, Food eaten. Lots of talk A toast of thankfulness given, Not only for what they had But for what they had lost. Thanksgiving was alive and well here. My next stop was at a small house One of many on a military base. The furnishings were poor But the place was cleanly kept The woman was tired looking, The color of sweet malted milk. Her four small ‘hang around the Hem of her dress’ children Varied in shades of chocolate To a lighter coffee cream. They all clamored for her attention. Their daddy was there, But in picture only… On the neatly set kitchen table. He was standing with a dust-stormed desert, As his less than colorful backdrop. A man of rich chocolate color, With a larger than life grin on his face, He was uniformed and proud. The table was set With a roasted chicken, Mashed real potatoes, Not from a box… And a mix of corn and peas. Apple pie and Cool Whip Finished the meal. Bubbly apple cider was served, In Winnie The Pooh glasses. Hands held, Blessings said, Food eaten. Lots of talk A toast of thankfulness given, Not only for what they had But for what and who They were without, Thanksgiving was alive and well here. My next address I was stunned by… It was an old building On a graffiti littered street, Looked like a warehouse. Inside was a hubbub of activity. Long wooden tables, Loaded with commercial type food containers Filled brimful with hot food. They stood in line, patiently, Maybe a hundred people Of all ages, all sizes, all color. The clothes were ragged Faces drawn and hungry But filled with anticipation That tonight they would not… Go to sleep hungry. A large poster print Of my beloved Master Hung crookedly upon the barren wall. He was there…and they knew it. They sat silently with bowed heads, At rough hewn long picnic tables On uncomfortable benches. They counted their blessings In each their own way, Before tucking in To the feast before them. Kindly faced volunteers Had filled their waxed paper plates With wholesome fare. They happily used plastic utensils, And drank from paper cups. Hands, touched in friendship Blessings said, Food eaten, Lots of talk, And a toast of thankfulness given. Not only for what they had, But for what they had lost. Thanksgiving was alive and well here. Yes indeed! I know what to write. Thanksgiving All is well… Thanksgiving Was, and is, still a day Of Thanksgiving. |
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| © Copyright 2004 das - All Rights Reserved | |||
Joyce Johnson
since 2001-03-10
Posts 9912Washington State |
How very lovely and written with pure empathy. Love, Joyce |
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Trillium
since 2001-03-09
Posts 12098Idaho, USA |
SPIRIT: This was a very emotional read for me! You are so talented and many faceted! Love Betty Lou Betty Lou Hebert |
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Marge Tindal
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
SPIRIT~ This moved me to misty-eyed~ Thank you for such a lovely render~ *Huglets*  ~*Marge*~ ~*When the heart grieves over what it has lost, |
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PatAngel Member
since 2004-04-05
Posts 451California |
Spirit, I was deeply moved by your poetic talent. Patricia 'When you find a dream within your heart, don't ever let it go. |
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junemac Senior Member
since 2003-04-24
Posts 1005uk |
For me this is a really new experience. Being from the UK, I naturally have heard of and seen pictures of Americans celebrating thanks giving. I had no idea though of the true meaning of this day and what it means to you all and thanks to this wonderful poem spirit, I now understand totally. This is a breath-taking epic of a poem and I thank you so much for sharing your wonderful story-telling ability and amazing visual imagery here on this site. It has truly enlightened me and made today extra special. Hugs to you from acrioss the ocean and ..... happy 4th of July to you all too  june xxxxxxx |
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midnightblues Senior Member
since 2000-07-01
Posts 1597Singapore |
Dearest Das, your poem is so touching, i could feel the poignancy as well as peacefulness of the scenes which you've depicted. it was an enthralling experience. thank you for sharing. i love it Love MiCheLLe If there cannot be equal in affection, then let the one with more be me - midnightblues |
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SPIRIT Senior Member
since 2002-12-29
Posts 1745California Desert |
I do appreciate you all taking the time to read my long ramblings - thank you. |
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