A poem. A prayer.



I’ve got a thing for poetry, which means that today finds me especially happy, for April is National Poetry Month.

I’m also happy because it’s spring, and absolutely lovely in my neck of the woods these days. During times like these, when life feels so damn good, it’s easy enough to cruise along and let things slip. Like going to AA meetings. Working my program. And maintaining conscious contact with my Higher Power.

I was reminded of this last part at my morning AA meeting today, where the discussion centered around Step 11. I’ve only been praying and meditating haphazardly, so this morning’s discussion was a good kick in the pants to get me doing it on a more regular basis.

Now, being the geek that I am, I had already planned to share a poem with the group, in honor of National Poetry Month. Amazingly enough, the one I had chosen also fit the discussion topic. Huh. Go figure.

Thus, I’m happy to share this poem/prayer of thanks, from one of my favorite writers. It is a wonderful expression of the gratitude that I am feeling today, for many things.

i thank You God for most this amazing

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

-e.e. cummings

3 Responses to “A poem. A prayer.”

  1. 1 Chaz

    C…. I connect with the appreciation of just being and what an overlooked testament our mere happy existence is to how awesome a recovering life can be.

    Although not as poetically, I have had a number of joyful experiences lately with the little things in life like a brisk breeze, time with my kids, a good meal, or a quiet morning.

    All of these amazing blessings were overshadowed by our alcholic thinking. Yet they are there for us when we recover.



  2. 2 Lydia

    That’s one of my favorite sobriety poems.

  3. what a gorgeous poem. i love it when people slip poetry back into life. i forget how much i love it. you and chris should discuss e.e. i believe it’s his favorite poet, too.

    perhaps we do a poetry workshop when you’re up? doesn’t have to be prose.

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