My Love Letter to Thanksgiving

Dear You,

The world is your home and you treat it as such,

but your ambition, the damage continues to disrupt.

Why is the world never enough to satiate

your thirst for its waters its love and embrace?

Ah but you see the world as offering few

So with only worlds, will I attempt to reckon with you.

It’s more than sufficient, it’s a lifetime of gifts.

It’s a community that holds its members and repairs widening rifts.

I wish this were the place that everyone could call home.

Far removed from the bombing, prejudice, persecution, and countless war zones.

It’s hard to measure the sufficiency of other people's thanks,

when it sometimes seems like all they look at is who outranks

each other in wealth or in class,

envy can poison in one single glance.

Is it truly enough to just be satisfied with where you are at?

Seeking pastures that are greener, but benefits that truly never last.

A cornucopia sits on the table, overflowing with plenty,

but so many are not able to fulfill their hunger, the gentle,

the wounded, the hateful, the true

all deserve their seat round the feast.

Why do we dictate who is who?

For those given so much and throw away more than half,

It seems like a slap in the face to those who scramble for scraps.  

The cornucopia overflows with more than enough,

but the opening is too small and filters out all the rough.

Thousands of prayers are sent up in thoughts,

for those we love, the earth we roam, and the leaders that guide

how can one prayer be enough if the world still cries?

It only takes one prayer to make an impact

when you are satisfied, you gift the world back.

Two simple words can absorb much of the pain

and at the table in a glorious refrain,

all will sit together without any borders

or walls that block those who cannot afford

a life that was gifted to people all free,

will sing to God, “Thanks to thee.”

This is the song I will sing tonight and tomorrow

which I pray you join and combat the sorrow

of a current reality that we all face,

these thanks, the troubles will not necessarily erase.

There will never be enough for everyone this night,

but as Eckhart says, a prayer starts the rite.

I thank the Lord for this world he has shaped

and set the table with forgiveness and grace

for people who have been lucky enough to give

and remember others who struggle to live.

So thank you, thank you, thank you again!

I say this because God is gracious and lets me see in

to the Cornucopia filled with gifts and delights

For me, fewer battles, fewer troubles, less strife.

Thanksgiving is the day when thanks overflow,

Shouldn’t every day be bountiful even in winter snow?

If thanks is said everyday and remembered even more,

In a darkening world, realization opens the door.

The door to plenty, to eternally be filled,

remains open when thanks are given and gratitude built.

The world isn’t perfect, neither is prayer,

but thank you encompasses the who, when, and where

in your life you have been gifted by God above

to maximize what makes us human: love.

Sincerely,

Tomorrow

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741