Guest Post: keLi on Giving Thanks

she is thoreau-bred baby, my friend keLi, and her words swoon to the spirit in a way i've never known... and here, she bows low and gives thanks, and i invite you to listen.





when you say your thanks

mean it.


glance around the table spread long and wide

and see more than the good plates

the dappled silver on display

the gravy server placed just so

to hide the stain of last year’s cranberry salad.




give thanks and link hands

tuck fingers into grandmother grasp

of palms worn into leather, from love

branching varicose into very being


give thanks and pay tribute

to cousin Bobby in Afghanistan

who spoons his bounty from a tin can today

hunkered as if bowed in prayer, too


give thanks and remember well

the soul flung up from that empty seat

at table where clink of forks fills silence

enduring days of want before true feasting above


when you say your thanks

mean it.


look – really look – at those who have gathered

and see the beauty and the mess of it all

eleven calendar months of life hard

the nicks and scars no fancy tablecloth can hide

all facing each other now, passing time and food

and gratitude.


when you say your thanks

call it grace.

call it all grace.

and mean it.



Reminded today, as I am every day since sweet Baney went home, that to breathe is blessing – and to live is praise. Praying that you, friends, would slather your loved ones – heaping helping of gravy-style—in love this holiday weekend.


ALL SCRUMPTIOUS PHOTOS COURTESY: http://www.flickr.com/photos/crowdive/