Gratitude Poem

I'm not normally a poet, but last night, at the last session of my class with Jan Phillips, she read us a poem called Gratitude, by Mary Oliver. Then we were to answer the questions in the poem ourselves. She said you should share what you write, so.... here's my poem.

Gratitude
(after Mary Oliver)
by Deanna Johnson

What did you notice?

The grace of cool fresh air after the dry despair of Santa Anas.

What did you hear?

A white hum, not noise, of thousands of cars with some place urgent to go,
sounding like the pound of waves on sand.

What did you admire?

The painted houses, colors blending from one to another,
courageously hiding the stark faces of garage doors.

What astonished you?

The simplicity, the amazing analogy of spectrums of color and sound.

What would you like to see again?

The face of my sister, with echoes of family gestures and laughter and care.

What was most tender?

Touching baby hummingbirds, still warm,
not abandoned after all, a sweet relief.

What was most wonderful?

The beating of the weft, flashes of color, coalescing into fabric,
felt in bones and heart.

What did you think was happening?

I opened each love letter of life, comforted.