Thankful I’m not blessed

“I’m thankful for every starving addict in the world because that hunger is a light house.”

I’m thankful for all the spewing demons behind the wheel of cars tonight¬†because they are buying pies and visiting grandmas.

(I’m thankful for my dying Saturn because I feel like a tiny God when I lift the hood and shoot a knowing grin at a few of the pieces now).

I’m thankful for spending five hours in the ER with my daughter last night because when she puts her hand through the bars of that bed I get to squeeze it.

I’m thankful for the old woman I met there, whose agonized moans made my Love lurch.

(I’m thankful for every hour I waited for the goofy, bespectacled doctor who made us laugh over Bruce Springsteen stories and Lidocaine).

I’m thankful for alcoholism because it is the filthy mat I fall on daily; and most times when I lift my face, I see God.

I’m thankful for every starving addict in the world because that hunger is a light house.

So, I’m thankful I’m not blessed.

I’m thankful for every horrible thing I’ve ever said or done because I can’t fix yesterday, only now.

I’m thankful for the devastation of divorce because our blackest voids are really cosmic bangs of creation.

I’m thankful for every profane word ever spoken because passion is the seed of Christ.

I’m thankful for every offensive word ever spoken because it is fuel to a fire that needs to burn.

I’m thankful for every photo I have never shared because I am no different than any one of you.

And I’m thankful for every man, woman, or child brutally alone tonight because on the shore of that darkness is a broken hearted Lover waiting with a warm wrap.

Here I am. 

Lament

“I would like to step out of my heart and go walking beneath the enormous sky…”

Everything is far

and long gone by,

I think that the star

glittering above me

has been dead for a million years.

I think there were tears

in the car I heard pass

and something terrible was said.

A clock has stopped striking in the house

across the road…

When did it start?…

I would like to step out of my heart

and go walking beneath the enormous sky.

I would like to pray.

And surely of all the stars that perished

long ago,

one still exists.

I think that I know

which one it is–

which one, at the end of its beam in the sky,

stands like a white city…

Rainer Maria Rilke