I sit alone by crackling fire.
Quiet prayers of gratitude ascend.
Spirit-fired sparks shoot upward.
We embraced a long-lost son this week.
He tells us he was blind and dead.
He now sees! He is alive!
I kissed a head for the first time.
A dimple-cheeked grandson was placed in my arms.
I still feel his softness, the hope he gives.
Another grandchild was shy at first.
Yet she of brown eyes and ponytail remembered love.
My legs became her slide, my arms her wings to flight.
A daughter too far away gave birth.
For yesterday a little dove arrived.
How can love fill a heart so for one yet unseen?
I rejoice over children walking in faithfulness.
The two middle ones will celebrate at other tables today.
The faces of our two youngest bringing joy to our own.
I sat at other tables this week.
Lifelong friends smiled across from me.
Stories and laughter outer signs of the Spirit’s bonds.
Thanksgivings, like holy incense, drift heavenward.
Yet libations are present also.
For tears of gratitude drop upon the hearth.
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