Evening -

The moon is shining brightly, as are the stars,  and it is cold outside.   We all gather tomorrow to feast.

It is such a blessing, a day to give Thanks.   What could be more wonderfully blessed than that.

Gratitude.   Thanks!

Here is another poem  by Mary Oliver



NOT THIS, NOT THAT


Nor anything,
not the eastern wind whose other name
    is rain,
nor the burning heat of the dunes
    at the crown of summer,
nor the ticks, that new, ferocious populace,

not the president who loves blood,
nor the governmental agencies that love money,

will alter

my love for you, my friends and my beloved,
or for you, oh ghosts of Emerson and Whitman,

or for you, oh blue sky of a summer morning,
that makes me roll in a barrel of gratitude
    down hills,

or for you, oldest of friends:   hope;
or for you,  newest of friends:  faith;

or for you, silliest and dearest of surprises, my
own life. 


    - Mary Oliver