Some days we refuse to be thankful cause
it won’t hold up its end of the bargain.
The granted objects shrink themselves too small
The hunger for what’s not grows and demands
to be pursued. A Goliath of need.
If only seemingly, it strikes the same.
We set off into a reality
filled with bitter dried fruit and sugar cane.
The occasional dandelion begs
to be wished upon. Pray, a miracle
brings us back from the unforgiving edge.
Into the ignored and humble, ten-fold,
where there is plenty of plain and simple,
but only in veil. We return thankful.
©Shonda Taliaferro 2021