*Adam Jones photo, courtesy of Creative Commons.*

DESERT NOTES

— from Loreto, Baja California Sur

Guardians

Pelicans on a rocky shore

perched like

sentries of

the sea.

Dawn

Pushing through dark

a deepening light

stretches sky.

Noise

A rally of roosters,

the moaning gull,

loud boom of a neighbor’s bass,

my own insistent want —

how hard we work to be heard.

Persistence

In desert heat

from cracked rock

a blade of grass

braves a way.

In the Canyon

From the dew

a flutter of yellow butterflies

lift us through rock and

sand, palm and sea.

this is how joy travels:

a trail of small surprises.

Palms

In strong wind

the pressing rustle

of change.

Thanks Giving

Again, again, again

wave meets shore.

A gentle song

of steady faith.

To notice is one way to give thanks.

To nod yes, and yes, and yes.

To every small maybe.

To every large perhaps.

To this, I plea and pray and poem —

please let me live in gratitude, let me know full.

* * *

It’s Thankful Thursday, a (mostly) weekly pause to express appreciation for people, places, things, and more.

Gratitude is distilled attention. Platitudes are pleasing but powerless. As in writing and life, specificity is best. When we look closer, we see more, feel more, live more.

In tough times, gratitude can be difficult to reach, though this is often when we need it most. Gratitude does not erase worries and fears, but maybe — if we’re lucky, patient, willing — it shifts our perspective, nudging us toward a better view of goodness, light, possibility.

Thank you for being here with me.

— Drew