What happens when gratitude is stuck inside?
Blocked like a constipated goose
Eyes bulging
Skin tighter than an unplayed drum
Senses prickling and sensitive
Alert to the brooding expectation and glare of damnation
And still no gracious movement
No head bow
No softening of the heart
Fires of rage rise up
For what?
For what?
For what you may ask?
To guard the edges of existence
To keep a sense of experience
To stop the march of the unthinking
THAT IS WHY!
That is why the gratitude is unannounced
not unfelt, simply silent and within.
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