Thanks Given

Praise wet snow
falling early.
Praise the shadow
my neighbor's chimney casts on the tile roof
even this gray October day that should, they say,
have been golden.

Praise
the invisible sun burning beyond
the white cold sky, giving us
light and the chimney's shadow.
Praise
god or the god's, the unknown
that which imagined us, which stays our hand,
our murderous hand,
and gives us
still,
in the shadow of death,
our daily life
and the dream still
of good will, of peace on earth.
Praise
flow and change,night and
the pulse of the day.

by Denise Levertov