“Gratitude is heaven itself”
Woke up to inclement weather of the heart,
turbulence in the slipstream of life;
another day older,
jury’s still out on the wisdom.
in the lexicon of music;
in the songs of life.
In an old truck held together
with duct tape and prayer,
I drive to ambivalence
in this frozen tundra I call home.
Thirty below zero under a foreboding winter sky,
a homeless man trudges through the snow
with a convoy of shopping carts
containing all his worldly possessions.
Plodding on, seemingly indifferent,
forging on nevertheless;
a paradox in my jaded world.
I gasp at this visual,
it jolts me back
to the relative comfort
of the life of my tormented soul.
Gratitude bunks with the unequivocal knowledge,
that life is inherently good;
we are hardwired to be happy,
yet defy this from places of fear.
There is beauty in the snowflake,
given birth by a blizzard,
I am capable of love,
I am fearless.
The world unfolds as is,
with reasons for the seasons,
I will embrace it all,
and I shall be grateful.
Copyright © Henri Ferguson 2008
All Rights Reserved
Years ago in the throes of one of those blistering winters that Edmonton is notorious for I was driving downtown in a borrowed dilapidated truck (with gratitude all the same) on a dark and bleak Sunday morning with Kris Kristofferson singing in my head. I was having what might best be characterised as a “life sucks”
moment- when I saw this homeless man, dressed in flimsy clothes, draped with an old sleeping bag hauling his “material world” in two shopping carts.
It continually amazes me how the universe delivers to us these humbling reminders to re-adjust our skewed perceptions and find that place of gratitude inside, a destination we all should visit more often. How soon we forget the blessings and comforts that have been bestowed on us and dwell instead in the vacuum of our wants and desires. I am blessed, and I shall be grateful.