Gratitude

By Mark Rickerby

I climb up a mountain to breathe in the air,
and leave behind, with each step, one more useless care.
The sun ripples like laughter across the wide sea.
I smile at a flower and it smiles back at me.
The wind lifts a scent from the meadow below,
and reminds me of the first girl I kissed, long ago.
I kneel in the heather, feel my spirit expand.
A bright butterfly stops to rest on my hand.
The clouds, ever present, yet no two the same,
give lively imaginations a game.
"Look! A sailboat! A rabbit! An angel! A swan!"
And it's the best kind of game because no one's ever wrong.

Everyone should have a secret place like my hill,
just to rest and let the mind roam free where it will,
far away from the traffic, the noise and the dust,
in the crystal clear sunshine of a world they can trust.
Turn your heart to the beauty that's in and around you.
Walk gently, with love, and the same will surround you.
You will surely see further the farther you go,
and remember, it's pain which helps us to grow.
For with all of its sadness, its heartache and strife,
with all of its sorrow, it's a wonderful life.
Yes, with all of its sorrow, it's a wonderful life.