Hot And Cold (a poem)

Thanksgiving is an American tradition that our family will never, ever give up. The feast is amazing, but so is the logic: a holiday especially made for giving thanks! You have to give the pilgrims credit: they were clever. Giving thanks is one of the healthiest, happiest things you could ever do. Not just with a feast, and not just on the fourth Thursday in November—it’s a habit that can reshape our perspectives and grow contentment in our hearts all year long. That’s what this poem is about:

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Hot And Cold

I think I prefer
(When the weather is cold)
A sun that is blazing and hot.

I think I would choose
(When I’m sweating profuse)
Some clouds that are snowing—a lot.

And when in the Autumn
The temperature’s right
I complain that the colours
Are good, but not quite
What they were in the past—

And why can’t I find some
Contentment that lasts?

I think what I have
(When I count it all up)
Is far beyond what I deserve.

I think that my life
(When I take every breath)
Is a gift by the grace of the Lord.

I think if I counted
And thought to say thanks
For these blessings
Instead of just
Making complaints

Contentment would find
In my heart
(Not too cold)
The perfect conditions
To grow.