Three days ago, the sun
shone. We were filled with joy
at the sight of it. Yesterday, too,
it woke us, brilliant light slanting
through the blinds, and we
smiled back. Today, when
a furtive cloud caused a few
moments of dimness, we scowled.
"Oh, no!" we cried.
Gratitude is a demanding mistress.
What would happen if
you were as charmed the
thousandth time he opened
the car door for you
as you were on your first date?
How would the world change if,
when she bakes your favorite
chocolate cake on your birthday
once more, you tell her you are
astonished, and grateful?
If what seems common and
to-be-expected are, in reality,
nothing more than abundant
miracles we have not earned,
do not deserve? This joy
that hauled you out of despair
is, like all things, impermanent--
it does not belong to you.
Open your heart to the coquette
who, ignored, robs you of wonder,
and you will find her, instead,
a generous and loyal friend, who
--when you've forgotten today's
good fortune--will sit with you,
spread an album across your knees,
and show you her pictures.
(c) 2013, by Hannah Six