Thank You

It has once again been ages since I’ve posted anything (Is there a “most inconsistent blogger” award out there somewhere? Because I’m pretty sure I’d be a contender!), and the longer I’ve put it off, the more I’ve felt pressure for the next thing I shared to be something grand. But, alas, I don’t have anything grand to share.

So…instead, today, I’m going to post this intentionally small something: a brief Thanksgiving reflection that attempts to convey the difficulty of expressing how grateful I am–for any number of things, but primarily for the many astonishingly loving/supportive collections of humans I have been privileged to be a part of along the way.

Thank you to and for all of you*, and happy Thanksgiving!

 

Thank You

“Thank you” hardly seems an adequate vessel
to contain the outpouring of gratitude
that longs to present itself in a form
sufficiently splendid
to mirror the magnitude
of the blessings that brought it into being.

But perhaps, like that rough-hewn chalice of old,
a humble cup is best suited to hold
this finest of wines—
a rich, earthy blend
pressed from the fruit
of daily gifts:

a place to lay my head
a part to play in labor that matters
and a plethora of lavishly loving people
with whom to share the journey.

© 2015
Alexis Spencer-Byers

* A special thanks to Street Poets for creating the space for this reflection (and for being one of the collections of humans for whom I am profoundly grateful!), and to Indiana Jones’s writers for imprinting the image of a humble holy grail on my mind so many years ago…

Making Mud

As promised, here is a second poem about the transformative effect of interacting with incarcerated teens via the Catholic Services ministry at Camp Miller (as well as with some other inspiring youth I have recently encountered through a wonderful organization called Street Poets). I continue to be profoundly grateful for how these young people–with their struggles, rough edges, refreshing (if sometimes frightening) honesty, kindness, courage, and creative talent–are softening the soil of my heart. Even as I recognize the potential for great pain that is inherent in my growing attachment to these “at-risk” youth, I am deeply appreciative of the privilege of sharing a season of life with them.

Making Mud

With joined hands
     and soothing voices
they form a seamless healing circle
     all around me

names
     faces
          stories
     memories
dreams . . .

Tears of joy and sorrow
     anger and fear
          regret and relief
               tenderness and compassion

fall onto packed ground

not yielding life
     right away

but seeping in
     softening the soil
          making mud

creating a space that is
     messy
          malleable
     vulnerable
enriched

at-risk for being marred
     by the gouging imprint
          of a careless boot
          or wayward tire

yet simultaneously able
     to nurture and sustain
fragile seeds
     of hope and faith.

© 2013
Alexis Spencer-Byers