By Your light, may we see light.Psalm 36:10
A wistful evening,
as I reflect upon past Thanksgivings;
a blend of events and images would stream by,
if I were able to place these within the framework of a lens,
montage footage, spanning twenty-five years.
Thanksgiving dinner on Gabriola Island,
where I lived during the winter of 1994-1995,
always waking up at 4:00 a.m., to feed the flames,
remaining on the embers in the woodstove,
in the center of my small living space.
I slept in the canyons of Sedona in ’95,
until I sold my car when the money ran out;
blessed with a cozy spot, where I slumbered
with my back up against the wall of a sanctuary,
nestled away, on a side road off of HWY 89A.
Two weeks later, on Thanksgiving Eve,
I Ieft my place of refuge and walked north
on the highway through West Sedona, and
stopped off at Denny’s, for Thanksgiving dinner,
where I spent the night, awake at the table.
Being brought low, before renewed from Above,
starting my life over again, for the sake of the soul’s
flight from the constraints of its prison,
where it languished, confined to the darkness
of ignorance, conditioning, and aveiros (sins).
Now, every Thanksgiving, I prefer to reflect
in solitude from Thursday to Sunday,
with a good book to steer my conscience
in the right direction, after all of these years,
like the flame of a candle reaching toward heaven.