Gratitude easily enters my days, most days

She is the rain

She is the mountain

She is the green field

She is the frost

She is the walk

She is the talk

She is shelter

She is the sweetness

She is the rawness

She is the sun

She is nourishment to my soul.

Sometimes, 

She is a choice to quell

Angst

Gall

Gloom

Languor

All of whom hover nigh;

A cutting word

A day without purpose

A terror robbing sleep

A lethargy indwelling

Gratitude endures,

Yes, even, embraces

Shining her light.