have I found adequate words of thanks?

I will never regard myself as proficient in language until I have found enough words to give thanks.

As I walked this crisp morning, crows hollered at me as they ruffled their feathers on barren silk floss trees in tormenting dismay. They sped through the pristine sky with their pointed beaks in fatherly dominion as if taken aback by me not bowing to their distinctive dawn chorus.

And oh, it is such a pristine, clear dawn— a gift from the southern and western winds the day before. If it weren’t for the hostile dryness of last afternoon, the sand bellowing in excrements, it wouldn’t have brought us northern, moist and friendly clouds. It wouldn’t have made spring possible, without the rather inapparent dew that covers the grounds for the grass blades to shoot in confident conviction for its place in the wilderness. How I felt agony at my heedless planting of chamomiles when it was not timely, they would have been better planted in warmer times.

I always wondered why bananas and strawberries tasted so elusive in togetherness. I remember writing letters to my friend about their clandestine love affair. It is a ritual to have bananas and strawberries before the spring’s pinnacle, and I always marvelled at their exquisite reciprocity of flavour and colour. Sparking up a million fireworks of sweetness, strawberries are embraced by the plain mushiness of bananas. I never really arrived at the fact that they always grow together for our humanness favours their partnership. Never did it occur to me that their similar cycles make them survive ever so gracefully.

And for this reason, it is a lifelong and heartfelt mission to keep finding all the words of thanks needed to bring attention to sacredness of our world so full of gifts. We have become so removed from all those gifts in a world so automatic and unnaturally available. It is only through organic attention that we remember to give thanks.

Have I found enough words? I will when I have found presence.