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Endless rows
of billowing wheat fields
seem to reach forever
towards the sky,
a little house of red
sits high upon the hill...
and as I look, I see
a chorus of angels
passing by -
blessing the fertile land
from their home
in Heaven's light.

I'll be spending
this Thanksgiving
painting the dream
God sent to me,
a vision filled with beauty
as I slept among the clouds...
and to show Him
I am thankful
for the wonders I have seen,
I will celebrate
in subtle shades
of yellow, red, and brown -

blending them on
my waiting canvas...
for all the world to see,
my bounty overflows
with His eternal
grace and love,
for through His eyes
and heart,
the whole world is free -
flying softly, graceful...
like the angels up above.

And I shall enjoy the harvest
bathed in hope,
a peaceful witness...
palette in my hand -
reflecting my existence,
as I gaze upon
His land,
showing no resistance -
full of the Holy Spirit
and faithful to my flag.

Content -
a song within my heart...
His images burst bright,
always to remember
the sights dancing while
I slumbered.
And I tip my sun worn hat
to the Supreme Artist,
manifesting.
Rejoicing in the valley.
Singing. Praying.
Proud to be
an American,
celebrating Thanksgiving.
Blessed.