2.21.25 // Gratitude, the Honey of the Soul

Gratitude drips like golden threads,
A salve to heal where sorrow spreads.
Its sweetness coats the cracks of care,
A soothing balm beyond compare.

Like honey gathered from the bees,
It whispers warmth on winter's breeze,
A savior spun in liquid gold,
That saves us with a calm to cold.

In darkest hours, its glow remains,
Soft nectar easing life's sharp pains.
It hums a hymn of tender grace,
And gently mends what time can replace.

Gratitude, you sacred art,
A hive of solace to the heart.
Through sweetness, you dissolve the sting,
A quiet strength that softly sings.