• thoughtjutsu 6w

    Less-ons for the More-on

    What know ye of gratitude?
    When clouds are gathering
    and skies are darkening,
    when rain is pouring
    and wind is howling,
    when thunder booms,
    loud and deafening.

    When you sit hunched over,
    wrapped in a tattered old blanket,
    on the rusty old cot
    on the cold stone floor
    in the corner of the cold dark room
    with crumbling walls,
    staring out through
    shattered window panes,
    shivering as the elements whip
    and lash the very essence of your soul.

    And it overcomes you,
    a foreboding sense of déjà vu,
    as if you are reliving a moment
    from a time long ago,
    the memory, perhaps,
    of an ancestor long since passed on -
    or perhaps not quite so long ago,
    who similarly sought refuge,
    curled up in a ball,
    wrapped in old, worn furs
    on a cold hard rock
    in the corner of a cold dark cave
    staring out through the opening
    into the deep dark void,
    cold, shivering and alone,
    as you are
    or rather will be,
    just as you have been,
    the elements gnawing and gnashing
    at the very heart of their soul.

    And they wondered about your future
    just as you wonder about their past
    or perhaps you are both past
    and you are both future,
    connected by the present that is,
    the piercing cold,
    the howling wind,
    the pouring rain,
    the booming thunder,
    the elemental storm,
    rending reality asunder.

    And the single thread
    by which you hold on,
    is your immense gratitude
    for the sheer magnitude
    of the simple fact
    that as you take shelter
    in your humble abode
    and the elements wreak havoc
    on the world outside
    and threaten you with the same,
    you are dry.