Thank

Thank you, a word that hums like low wind,
Soft as a sigh through autumn trees,
Wrapped in gratitude, it finds
A place where quiet kindness breathes.

We thank the sunrise for its gold,
The rain that patters on the pane,
The stranger's smile, the stories told—
Each thread that weaves our mortal skein.

So let us say it, plain and true,
With hearts that beat in earnest rhyme—
A simple thanks, in accents few,
Can turn the ordinary into sublime.