GIVING THANKS

By Michelle Adam

Giving Thanks

 The corn tassels arch their backs toward the sky

as their leaves, once a soft emerald green,

bow to the ground in brittle surrender to a breeze

carrying winter’s darkness

on her shoulders.

This ancient seed of corn sprouted, once again,

purple, beige, yellow,

a muted blue,

and gave herself in all her colors, before, now,

returning to the earth and the collective memory of her belly.

I give thanks to this harvest,

to an ancient memory of giving and receiving,

of honoring all that has been,

all the spirit that has risen,

once again,

to give the gift of life, before death and renewal return.

I give thanks to the walls of earth that make my home,

to the blood whose river brings me life,

to this heart that belongs

to all hearts that have

drummed with mine,

to spirit, and her guides of many, that have opened me to this place deep inside.

I give thanks as winter approaches,

As darkness comes forth to prepare the seeds

of next year’s harvest,

I give thanks to you, to you, to you, to this place,

where I stand, in full embrace

of your ancient gift.

 

original article…

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