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Praising His Gifts
Another day—God’s blessings—
compounded twelve months: 7x11:
death not yet welcomed;
Melodic raindrops playing
to the mind’s ear
bring a smile across the face
of a wrinkled heart;
Curb-side reservoirs of memories
flow throughout my being, swaying
to the pitter-patter rhythms
of raindrops—wetting contentment’s
salacious appetite of happiness;
Suddenly, large snowflakes, as if manna
from heaven, began to briskly fall
from the cerulean skies;
Then, like a cistern having emptied itself,
it all stopped: no more flakes; no more raindrops;
the smiling sun just stood in illuminating amusement.
Wrapped in all of the trimmings of nature,
God had wished me another birthday.
