Thanksgiving comes as a prayer re-spun, re-woven into a tapestry. Careful threads of vibrant hue tell of all that we are so grateful for. This morn brought a sweet potato sunrise. The cool air brings capering puffs of breath. Earth crunches frosty beneath light footfalls. Lights as street-stars shine bright come evening's tide, when we love to be snuggled warm safe-inside.

September 2026

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Thanksgiving of my heartful days, when love flames as the hearth of Camelot. Whence I feel gratitude as sweetened air, and my finer feelings are the warmth of care - gratitude flares. A deep core heat from infinite source, flows as ink to write of the right roads, to goodness sow, to mellow soul woes. In this way a sense of honey-peach horizons grows, a sense of wonder greater than humankind can full-fathom. It is not that one can expect to be Grief's stranger, nor yet speak in blessed ignorance of pain, more that each dawn brings another chance to bring goodness in Heaven's name.

September 2026.

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Thanksgiving is my soul cathedral. It is the walls of Aeon's redress.  It is a time of balance seeking, whence the soul asks questions of true fairness. For thankful hearts in prayer are the open book, their pages in Divinity's own hand.  For our blessings may come as comfort given; yet so too may they be the tough road of Good's servant. And so we praise the Lord of Creation, hearts open access to holy hands, not to see with the eyes of avarice, yet Love's own and remain at Love's command.

September 2026.

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Come Thanksgiving day, as pies baked, a lone pumpkin sat in her field. She bathed in the late autumn sun, hugged in gentle light. Her seed constellation was ensconced within: growing, maturing. She dreamed of their spring leaves, of fragile roots that would become strong. As days summed to months, as the ambient air sighed to a wintry coolness, the leaves fell to become her bonny blanket: browns, rosy pinks and golds. The air carried the aroma of recent rain and earthy loam: comforting, serene. All the while she remained, patient, content and with an optimistic soul. Snow came and went, for a month or more none could see her, and at the thaw, she was no more. Yet her dream, her constellation, they were the stars of that field and the merriment of the coming autumn days, and the beginnings of countless seed constellations. 

September 22, 2025.

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The warm weather stretched long into October that year, a true Indian summer, or so we called those glorious summers that glided on and on. And so when thanksgiving arrived it was a warm autumnal day with crisp golden and scarlet leaves carpeting the still growing grass of the garden. Kirsty awoke slowly as one does on days with silenced alarm clocks to the aroma of Canadian pancakes being cooked by papa. She could almost taste the maple syrup already. At last, Canadian thanksgiving had arrived.

September 23, 2020.

 

Canadian thanksgiving was a day of hugs and tickle-fights. It was a day of walks in the forest, the fall leaves announcing each footstep as if it were that of a king. There was a crispness to the air, a clarity that the cooler weather brings, a willingness to let the more earthen hues have their say.

September 23, 2020.

 

This Canadian thanksgiving we are thankful for clarity on how our country was born, the truth and not the fiction. For in this acknowledgement there exists hope for a good future, of a country healed to its real roots and thus able to grow and thrive once more.

September 23, 2020.

 

Pumpkin pie was the star of every Canadian thanksgiving. We kept the dinner simple - sweet potatoes, bread and beans - so that there would be all the more room for dessert.

September 23, 2020.

 

Thanksgiving can be the most beautiful time, when we use it to rev up our empathy for one another, to recall what living is truly about. We can learn to thank our creator for the beautiful planet we call Earth, for the loving bonds we share with family and for the ability to pursue our own passions in a way that benefits others. We can thank our creator for the chances given to make living better for all of humanity and for all of creation too. We can thank our creator for the guidance given to love one another, for the messages that come out in our stories, our songs, our artistic expressions of all forms. We can give thanks for the sunshine and rain so naturally given and the technological breakthroughs of mankind all the same. For when we are inspired to act through love, things go right... love is a sort of magic... and I'm thankful for the magic in my soul.

September 23, 2020.

 

Thanksgiving day floats in on the air as easily as cinnamon fragrance dances from the village bakery. It is a day of hands rather than clocks, a day of giving over receiving. It is the day we resonate with our good fortune and make plans for the year ahead to give to others. Whatever God has given us, be it talents or material goods, that is our tool to help make Mother Earth more heavenly for all.

September 23, 2020.

 

Thanksgiving day arrives in slow and elegant grace, without alarm clocks nor hurried feet. Voices that carry though the household have a calmness and happy tinge that is easy to miss on busier days. We take this day one steady breath at a time, we savour it. It is time together. It is time to bond. It is time for the simple joys, the laughter, the tumble-weed jokes. And it is all this we give thanks for - for one another, for home, hearth and a sense of sanctuary.  September 23, 2020.

 

It would be only too easy in a confusing world to get lost in what is wrong rather than become reflections of what is right and good. So, this thanksgiving day, let us see creation in all her God given glory and ask ourselves how we can help to protect what our creator has given freely.

September 23, 2020.

 

The tale of thanksgiving day will be told this time in a series of fortunate events, in a series of smiles that came about by acts of kindness that weren't random and all the better for it.

September 23, 2020.