Ode to Gratitude - POEM

Gratitude as a daily choice, not a destination

Gratitude is often treated like a conclusion.
Something we reach once everything is in place.
Once the pain has passed.
Once life feels lighter.

But for me, gratitude is not an ending.
It’s a practice.
A return.
A conscious choice to meet life again — exactly as it is.

Some mornings, gratitude doesn’t arrive with joy.
It arrives quietly, through breath.
Through awareness.
Through the simple realization that we are still here.

This poem was written from that place —
that fragile moment between sleep and waking,
between exhaustion and presence,
between noise and silence.

A reminder that gratitude doesn’t erase pressure or pain —
it anchors us inside them.

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Ode to Gratitude

I hear them again.
The quiet of my room.
The hum of sleeping machines,
the low growl of engines outside,
the voices of passersby,
the joy of the living.
I hear the world again.

I feel them again.
The cold of winter drawing near,
fatigue resting on the pillow,
subtle scents standing watch in the place.
I breathe in the fragrances of the world, again.

And I open my eyes, slowly.
Still confused, as if returning from far away.
And I see them again:
beauty scattered in the chaos of my room,
the sun’s gentle touch on the window.
The world regains its colors, again.

I — my mind, my consciousness — awaken once more.
No pause. Emotions rush in violently.
Yesterday’s fear, today’s frustration,
joys, but above all defeats,
excitement too, hope… the pressure of life.
Like restless children, they flood me again.

And in the middle of this torrent,
You whisper to me tenderly:
“You are alive, my child.”

So I breathe deeply,
welcoming life,
feeling my heart alive again —
one, two, three… beat after beat.
And I close my eyes gently.

In the silence, my soul exhales humbly:
Thank You, God, for this new beginning.

You slip in like a parent.
You sweep away my heavy thoughts with a calming wind.
A breath of fresh air
a necessary anchor.
You soften life.
You make it lighter.

And even in pain,
my heart — addicted to Your presence —
often asks itself this question:

What have you learned today?
And what, in this moment,
does your soul feel grateful for?

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🪞 Reflection for the Reader

Gratitude doesn’t require a perfect life.
Only a present one.

What is one small thing — right now — that reminds you that you are alive?

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Consider becoming a free subscriber to The Mirror Room Journal,
and share this reflection with someone who might need a quieter breath today.

Until next time, take care.
Warmly,
Odel A.