These are difficult days for gratitude. The days are short, the skies gray, the heart heavy.

And yet, of course, we must make room in the mire for thankfulness, to keep some safe and tidy spot for our gratitude to grow.

Praise our crazy fallen world, writes Barbara Crooker, it's all we have, and it's never enough.

I often reach for Crooker's reassurance, and learned recently that her gratitude is hard-earned, which makes her beautiful poems even more illuminating. You can learn more about Barbara Crooker on the 3 Good Books blog.

Praise Song

Praise the light of late November,

the thin sunlight that goes deep in the bones.

Praise the crows chattering in the oak trees;

though they are clothed in night, they do not

despair. Praise what little there's left:

the small boats of milkweed pods, husks, hulls,

shells, the architecture of trees. Praise the meadow

of dried weeds: yarrow, goldenrod, chicory,

the remains of summer. Praise the blue sky

that hasn't cracked yet. Praise the sun slipping down

behind the beechnuts, praise the quilt of leaves

that covers the grass: Scarlet Oak, Sweet Gum,

Sugar Maple. Though darkness gathers, praise our crazy

fallen world; it's all we have, and it's never enough.

— Barbara Crooker

It's Thankful Thursday. Gratitude. Appreciation. Praise. Please join me in a weekly pause to express appreciation for people, places & things. What are you thankful for today?