Thanksgiving—Poem by James Whitcomb Riley

It is easy to believe that a sense of thankfulness comes from good fortune. But I wonder if it doesn’t work more readily the other way, arising out of a sense of need, met or unmet. In these days when the world around us continues with its troubles—both new and those that seem to have followed us from everlasting—it is perhaps possible that gratefulness will arise from within us, recognizing as did James Whitcomb Riley that “love and only love could understand.” May we share love’s touch with another during this Thanksgiving season, even one whose “need of touches we had never known.”

We’ll be back on Tuesday, November 27.

Thanksgiving

Let us be thankful—not only because
Since last our universal thanks were told
We have grown greater in the world’s applause,
And fortune’s newer smiles surpass the old—

But thankful for all things that come as alms
From out the open hand of Providence:—
The winter clouds and storms—the summer calms—
The sleepless dread—the drowse of indolence.

Let us be thankful—thankful for the prayers
Whose gracious answers were long, long delayed,
That they might fall upon us unawares,
And bless us, as in greater need we prayed.

Let us be thankful for the loyal hand
That love held out in welcome to our own,
When love and only love could understand
The need of touches we had never known.

Let us be thankful for the longing eyes
That gave their secret to us as they wept,
Yet in return found, with a sweet surprise,
Love’s touch upon their lids, and, smiling, slept.

And let us, too, be thankful that the tears
Of sorrow have not all been drained away,
That through them still, for all the coming years,
We may look on the dead face of To-day.

—James Whitcomb Riley

Photo by Freedom II Andres, Creative Commons license via Flickr. Poem is in the public domain.

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Will Willingham

Director of Many Things; Senior Editor, Designer and Illustrator at Tweetspeak Poetry

I used to be a claims adjuster, helping people and insurance companies make sense of loss. Now, I train other folks with ladders and tape measures to go and do likewise. Sometimes, when I’m not scaling small buildings or crunching numbers with my bare hands, I read Keats upside down. My first novel is Adjustments.

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