She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
‘I thought you’d never say hello,’ she said
‘You look like the silent type’
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burning coal
Pouring off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you

Today, I am grateful for the ability to hear and embrace song, and for my body that enables me to dance. I am grateful for the perpetual universal guidance and its knowing.

I am grateful for the chance I have at a life limited only by that which I allow to bind me, grateful for chains because they can be broken, grateful for YOU, who meets my light with your own.