I wonder if thankfulness has a color
Can it be the light we witness
From our rising sun when we wake up
Or the moon’s pure light when we grope in the dark of night?
Maybe it’s the green of my willow tree
Or the holy basil on the kitchen table
Thankfulness lives in the faithful rhythm of my heart
That beats for love and laughter
It shows it’s shiny face in the pomegranate peach glow of the setting sun
The sight and light of my eyes
Everything abounding and resounding —
mirroring images and echoes of gratefulness.