This week has been the time for gratitude
That things like health and love I’ve never lacked,
But thankfulness for those does not exclude
Appreciation for things less abstract,

Like ample sleep and sunbeams prime for warming,
And wearing shorts while at Thanksgiving feasts
Prepared by those with whom I am performing,
Whilst quoting lines from gypsies, imps, and priests.

For breaking bread with cherished friends and new
While raising voice and glass with equal cheer
The body’s strength and spirit will renew,
Serenity will be your souvenir.

My expectations utterly exceeded;
Today was the Thanksgiving that I needed.

When thinking on inevitable ends,
It’s easy to neglect the new beginnings,
Just as a focus on one loss contends
With gratitude for one’s plentiful winnings.

While evolution doubt will predispose,
Through instinct and a bias negative
That makes us see the spot and not the nose,
We shall endure- we know what makes us live.

So welcome, Dot and Charlotte! Bienvenue
To Enid, Mia, Zoe, and to Thomas!
Shalom, Olivia and Sonia! To
Serena and Penny I will give this promise:

Though sorrow may be part of every day,
There always will be good news on the way.

Four flights to cross the country, none delayed
Except for one that minimized my wait-
The pros and cons, meticulously weighed
Stayed equal, as if part of an estate

That left behind good fortune during travel.
It seems a luxury, yet in this case,
One snag would make the complex trip unravel;
Thus serendipity I did embrace.

When needy, I was given company.
When sorrowed, I had ample space to cry.
When weary, I found rest and reverie.
Now grateful, I accept, not asking why.

Though windfalls pessimists surely unnerve,
I know not to desire what I deserve.

Ten minutes prior to boarding did they say
That I would really, truly have a seat.
At last, my lengthy trip was underway:
Phase One I could potentially complete.

Phase One concluded in the pouring rain,
When hurried ambulation to the gate
Ensured that I could board the Phase Two plane,
Though once onboard we had hour’s wait.

And now I sit, three hours in advance
Of home until the blessed hour of four
At which the TSA won’t look askance
When I pass by as they had done before.

For sustenance and Phase Three wait beyond
The checkpoint ere the new day will have dawned.

It’s vexing when the body’s frailty,
Which cannot bear a paucity of slumber
Without succumbing to a malady,
Brings symptoms whose diversions will encumber.

For who has time to sleep when there is singing
Be it a Haydn mass or classic jazz,
Or musicals that leave the spirits ringing-
Experiencing fully what one has?

Alas, how easily one runs aground
When unexpected obstacles arise,
And habit makes one simple to confound
By those things more complex than realized.

If only my dismayed, exhausted stare
Could make frustrations vanish into air.