Impromptu Formal Thanksgiving Prayer, 2011

We do not practice gratitude
for any other reason than
its power to remind us
of what’s real.

When we ask ourselves
what are we really thankful for,
when we follow where this wondering
leads the heart,
we land at last in simple silence,
where this moment’s birthless deathless presence
evaporates the world in incandescence—
where the answer’s plainly seen,
the questions long forgotten.

Without this spacious instant
of awareness,
nothing else can ever matter,
ever be.

What else could we ever
be most grateful for,
other than this moment,
and this one,
and this?

What else could
ever break our heart,
overwhelm our capacity
to absorb without tears
the shock of piercing beauty,
the jagged edge of pain
actual and latent
in this moment,
and this one,
and this?

What else could we
be grateful for,
other than this complete
awareness of awareness,
an ever-changeless boundless sky
vividly appearing to us now
as an ever-changing dance
of consciousness,
your diamond lightning Being’s
elaborate adornment swaying
in this steady gentle summer breeze,
sparkling in the sunlight
whose origins we don’t recall,
whose destiny remains
completely unfathomable
in this moment,
and this one,
and this?

What else could be required
to drop us to knees in awe,
irresistibly aching
to thank something or someone for
the inexplicable magic
of this moment,
and this one,
and this?

We do not practice gratitude
for any other reason than
its power to remind us
of what’s real.

May all sentient beings be happy,
free from suffering,
serene and joyful.

May all sentient beings
be free.