It's hard to be thankful,
  there it  is said,
    so much has happened
  too much pain and sorrow,
    too many tears.
It's hard to be thankful,
  to ignore another's pain,
    to say fluff about having water, etc.
  when my friends live in a camp,
    far from their homes, or in the bush.
It's hard to be thankful,
  to give thanks,
    to sermonize about our bounty,
  to say thank you,
    and yet somewhere in amongst it all
Is a truth of being thankful,
  it is a mixed reality,
    of pain and sorrow,
  thanks for growing,
    even though it would be nicer,
To give true thanks,
  for safety, for assuredness,
    to not wallow in uncertainty,
  and yet is this not the way we travel,
    uncertain, sure, pain, joy.
Thanks for it all,
  because at least we have lived,
    lived into it all,
  mixed within and stirred,
   lost in the depths.