Thanksgiving

by Stuart D. Gathman

Sitting there with folded hands
And peaceful heart and restful mind I see
The warm sunlit color
Of brown and red and gold leaves rustling
With a spicy, rich, dark, earth smell stirring
In the cool caress of crisp autumn air
Glinting here and there with shadow shapes
Of carved wood chairs and rough, red hearth
And wondering recollect the days of joy and pain
And stumbling steps and breathless pace,
A table set by God and spread with blessings amply served,
And now for which as afterward I sit in time of rest
My heart with quiet thankfulness is overflowed
And eagerly awaits
The dawn.