Today, I am thankful for the sky, a vast layer that separates us from the infinite abyss beyond. That sky in its insistence and refusal of blue, that allows us to see differently each day, and to continue to see.
I am thankful for the thin layer of clouds and fog hovering above the city buildings, to create an illusion of magic, to allow us to believe, even if just for a moment, that the city we live in can be magical, that this world can support us in so many imperceptible ways.
I’m thankful for the mountains, the rocks and sediments that resonate between the fibers of our being, that absorb and give and receive, stone monuments reaching for the sky, reminding us too, to reach higher.
I am thankful for all of the birds, each and every single one an entire history of inarticulation, open wounds sitting on a wire, the birds that will be here when the world ends, the birds that see everything, the birds that persist, because that is all they know to do, and we, like the birds, persisting with them.
I am thankful for my dogs, the incredible compassion and generosity and empathy that they are capable of, what they can teach us about living, how we are allowed to feel and to be vulnerable and to be ourselves with them.
I am thankful for music and for words. I am thankful that language constantly fails and so that we have poetry, a way in which we can communicate that ignites presence, that allows us to rewrite and guide through intimacy, that, in the patterns of inarticulation we reach for words and therefore towards each other.
