Optimism is the child of Gratitude.
So much goes wrong, not the way I
expected or wanted. I live in a world
of rapid words, breathless words, words
that fly through the air like machine gun
bullets, words that murder my mind and
feed the darkness.
Optimism is the child of Gratitude.
I forget that I just flipped a switch and
created light, that my fingers race over
a machine capable of producing words that
instantly fly around the world, that the
bougainvillea’s delight-filled red blossoms
wait in the darkness, that my rumpled bed
was warm and the face in the gold frame is
the image of love that has withstood my best
and my worst for sixty years.
Optimism is the child of Gratitude.
When the last period is placed at the end of the
last sentence on this page, I will close my eyes,
a long blink, and when I open them, I will enter
the world of intentional gratitude. From the last
star visible in the fading night sky to the little
green plant I mindlessly water every day, I will
begin a journey of gratitude. And I will walk the
ever-broadening pathway that has no end.
Optimism is the child of Gratitude.
And I will be born again into a new world.
Optimism/Gratitude…thank you!
You’re welcome. Miss seeing you.