Oftentimes, thanks is given to the living, breathing entities in our lives who stand beside us through difficult times. Of course, this is what makes sense—you give thanks to those who can take it. But sometimes, we take the non-living things in our lives for granted. Everything that we can hold in our hands, control, everything we can see... that can't see us. Yet they are there all the time, silently waiting for us to use them, to be acknowledged, and once we are done using them, forgotten about once more. These "things" will never be more than just that, and I am not insinuating that they ever will be. But you shouldn't have a reason to express gratitude. You do it because it makes you feel good. Such is this short poem, which I wrote thanking the common items that I see in my room every day and every night, which have sat quietly with me through those days where it seemed like I was my only companion—which reminded me that no matter how silent the rest of the world was, I was not alone and never would be.
I must thank the evening
For its sweet fragrance of dusk and doze
For its final ounce of light before it,
Like all others, drifts into night.
I must thank the rain
For its cool and stinging touch
For the pitter-patter it makes against the roof
In tune with my tears.
I must thank the walls
For keeping me secure
Their rough feel against my fingertips
Their strength to bear my rage.
I must thank the pillow
For sitting so calm in my arms
As my moist eyes touch dryness
And my heart yearns for relief.
I must thank the blanket
For keeping me warm
As it hugs me like a chain around my arms
Refusing to yield.
I must thank my dreams
For protecting me from the world
My guardian forever from the open air
Even as night slowly fades into day.
