Dappled Things

I love November more than almost any other month. Something about this time of year sets my soul singing. The words to my late Fall spirit-song pop up from myriad sources--the scriptures (especially Isaiah and Psalms), memories of music or books from my childhood, favorite poems whose passages jumble together, and the unwritten verses that lie banked and flickering in my mind until autumn blows on them and they kindle briefly to life. This week one of my favorite poems has throbbed  in me every day, like a low Thanksgiving chant. Maybe your soul would like to sing too, but doesn't know the lyrics. Try out Gerard Manley Hopkins' gorgeous November-worthy lines. They fit, I think:

Pied Beauty

GLORY be to God for dappled things—

For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;

For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;

Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;

Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)

With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

                                                                                               Gerard Manley Hopkins

So now that your mind is working in word music, what poem or scripture or passage of any kind best captures the grateful song in your soul? What are you thankful for? Please share it in a comment on this blog post, so that we can all  read. (It's not that hard, friends. Click on the "Comments" line below. Scroll down until you see the "Post a comment" form. Type your comment in the space provided and click on "Post Comment. Voila!) Leave a thread of gratitude for me to catch hold of and weave into the fabric of my Thanksgiving this year.