Giving thanks
In a more irreverent way
Not for the things that are
Or what they've given
But for what they might become
And could some day give
This fallow land
That may yet bare fruit
This empty coin purse
That may one day overflow with gold
These wretched souls
That may one day be redeemed
To dance in the light of joy
And the spirit of generosity
Though now they merely
Clutch their plates tighter
And growl obscenities.
The World still exists
And that is something
For by hope
Against hope
It may forgo the odds
Growing bright and new again.
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