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A poem of gratitude from Missouri

Today I passed a stand
trees: large, tight,
naked and almost black
rain. But below,
I saw smaller trees, just
start their slow
rip-and-grab the sky,
and I saw that it was in gold
again, and they were shining
like campfires in the dark.

Lately I wanted
a little light – and it was there,
and all I had to do was turn
my gaze a few degrees
of the Center. Some blessings
find us when we switch to them –
they’re just waiting to be seen.
Towards the end of a difficult year,
may we spot the light,
while we breathe in prayer
or supplication: Show me,
Show me, show me.

– Karen Craigo, Poet Laureate from Missouri