My gratitude moves in all directions.
Outward, upward, backward, and forward
it flows across the landscape,
picking up stones and bits of sound
that it stores in a bottle
we tip when the sun goes down.
At night, when you’re sleeping,
it traces the outline of your shadow
and wonders what you’re dreaming
as it listens to you breathing.
It selects a moment from the day
and turns it gently over and over
to register the feel of being satisfied
with something so small and quiet.
Tomorrow, when I wake up
it will take me by the hand
and lead me down another path
and through another day,
and when I least expect it,
it will show me something beautiful
and ask me to remember.
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