01 May 2013
in Poetry, What God has taught me
Tags: NaPoWriMo, poetry, prayer, spirituality, thanksgiving
When You give the butterfly its wings,
does it say “thank you?”
What does that sound like?
Is it more beautiful than English?
Is it the sound of their whispering wing beats
As they go from petal to leaf?
When You give the fish it’s gills to breathe,
Does it say “thank you?”
Does it sound like silvery bubbles,
Or currents running through the ocean depths?
I thought that “thank you”s were said with tongues,
But my tongue can’t wrap words around the thought.
I thought I was lacking vocabulary.
I’ve searched for better words–
Scouring the limits of English.
But “thank you” isn’t found in any words.
Nothing matches the sound of leaves saying “Thank you” for the sun.
Or the sound of whales saying “Thank you” for the strength in their tales.
And written, it isn’t any better.
The letters are stiff and stagnant on a page.
Even when I try to bend them and make the tale curl like a butterfly’s proboscis,
It’s not a pretty “thank you.”
Not like the sky blushing in red and pink when it says “thank you.”
Or the peony’s feathery petals that spell out Your name.
“Thank you” falls flat from my lips
And dies on a page.
“Thank you” needs movement to live.
The wind calls such a beautiful “thank you” as it runs across the earth–
Brushing leaves that tickle and giggle,
Pushing clouds and forming storms.
It could never say it standing still.
So I have to learn to say “thank you” with more than words.
With my work
With my action
With every blink and breath and goose bump.
With every kind thing I do
And every answer to You
I say “thank you.”