Blessings. How discreet they lurk uncalled
unexpected and blossom, flower like, slow
sweet abundance, waltzing between wonder,
hope expanded wide-eyed heaven sent
settle feather like on clean sheets
of meaning. Always useful.
Thanksgiving makes lists of lucky stars
and reasons spring from forgotten places
where we watch in amazement, as
the placement of benefits grows
adding shape to all welcoming arms.
We name them exotically. Feng Shui,
numerology, astrology, numbers and games
dice spun out of control, six sixes
whatnot. No luck and randomness
is called as explanation. Gazing into empty tea-cups,
stones, shells, skulls and bones
shaman-like, magical lotto numbers
yet cannot see how lady luck
plays her hand. Sucked into a whirlpool
of unknowns we still embellish our minds
with constant waiting.
Lady Luck is dressed to take your hand. Did you ever win without attributing the blessing to pure luck?
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
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