Gratitude

I know why the Wind blows
To be honest I’m a little Weather Channel obsessed
So I know The Why

But I don’t think I’ve ever stopped.
And just thanked Her for what she does

Come to think of it,
I do not think I have ever stopped.
To thank the ground I kneel upon in prayer
That I kneel down upon with bare knees and clunky boots
With offerings of words, of rum, of frankincense, of castings
(The castings of the worms that live in my kitchen if you must know
Castings is just a fancy word for worm shit if you must know)

I am an imperfect worshiper of dirt and civilization
A wild city witch who loves both the road verge and the wilderness
And, let’s be honest, pumpkin spice lattes too
Sipped away while my knees are still dirty from the blessings of the earth

I know I have stopped.

To thank the tree that gives our picnics shade
The dog who wagged at me in the park
The rain that falls upon my sacred herbs
My barista making her 9000th PSL of the season without murdering anyone
The moon and sun and stars for wheeling through the sky
A friend who takes me to the grocery store
The bumblebee kissed by the warmth of the morning buried deep in a wildflower

Wild like me. Drought resistant like me.

All of which I am thankful for
In no particular order mind you,
Because chaos is my sacred groom
(Much to my chagrin at times)
And I am told by my Lady that we are all necessary parts of this starship Earth
(Again much to my chagrin at times)

But the Wind and Dirt
I do not think I have every stopped.
To thank them

Some might think it is foolish to give thanks
Thanks to something that cannot feel me

But *I* feel them.

And they moves me.

Thank you.

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