Photo by Carolyn Hoggard
Thanksgiving
(a Dorsimbra)
The hardwoods, during autumn's rain and frost
and wind, surrender, drop their leaves on earth
to blanket, nourish, turn--the greenness lost.
Those leaves blow free until they find a berth.
Knowing winter lurks,
voles and mice scurry to find shelter.
Geese gather, their
pilgrimage imminent.
While breezes vagabond through valleys, hills,
all humankind--inside, nest-warm--prepares
to feast, give thanks, and watch for changes in
the hardwoods during autumn's rain and frost.
Thanksgiving
(a Dorsimbra)
The hardwoods, during autumn's rain and frost
and wind, surrender, drop their leaves on earth
to blanket, nourish, turn--the greenness lost.
Those leaves blow free until they find a berth.
Knowing winter lurks,
voles and mice scurry to find shelter.
Geese gather, their
pilgrimage imminent.
While breezes vagabond through valleys, hills,
all humankind--inside, nest-warm--prepares
to feast, give thanks, and watch for changes in
the hardwoods during autumn's rain and frost.
Grace
( a Minute pattern)
With family together now,
we stand and bow.
No silver clanks
before our thanks:
Be present at our table, Lord.
Be here . . . adored . . .
Oh, grant that we
may feast . . . with Thee.
The Amen pulls forth harmony--
eight parts, on key--
the sound so neat!
Now, we can eat.
