A Heart That Thanks

Not for the grand or golden days,
But for the quiet, winding ways—
For morning light on weathered floors,
And peace that slips through unseen doors.

For laughter shared in passing glance,
For second tries, another chance.
For hands that hold, though time may flee,
For roots unseen beneath the tree.

For breath that rises, calm and true,
For skies that shift from gray to blue.
For lessons learned in moments tough,
And knowing what we have’s enough.

For kindness given without end,
For every stranger turned to friend.
For tears that softened walls inside,
For love that stayed, for hope that tried.

Gratitude, a gentle thread,
That weaves through all we’ve done and said.
A steady light, a sacred spark—
That finds the blessings in the dark.

Anne Manera ©2025
www.annemanera.com