Gratitude

A tempest threw a rainbow in my face

so that I wanted to fall under the rain

to kiss the hands of an old woman to whom I gave my seat

to thank everyone for the fact that they exist

and at times even feel like smiling

I was grateful to young leaves that they were willing

to open up to the sun

to babies that they still

felt like coming into this world

to the old that they heroically

endure until the end

I was full of thanks

like a Sunday alms-box

I would have embraced death

if she’d stopped nearby

Gratitude is a scattered

homeless love