Loss is a Gift - An Unusual Poem

Blessings are big.

Blessings are small.

Some of them you might not notice at all.

Instead you notice them when they are gone, 

And mostly when you start to bawl.

When tears roll down

And eyes squinch up

And your nose turns red as a rubber ball

You notice a blessing you had but lost

And you forget all the others that still exist.

Can you walk? You are lucky.

Can you see? Lucky too.

Can you wipe your red nose that looks like a kazoo?

Your arms are working, your fingers move. 

You noticed you cried, your brain is not a sieve.

You remembered you had it, your cortex is in tact 

(You're not even sure if the cortex does that!)

Your reasoning is sound, you are THAT aware

You now know that you have it "up there."

For only those with memory forget

With reason comes judgement, and sensing a threat

Your anger is normal, but to feel it takes feelings......

Now, wiping your tears takes on a whole new meaning.

Next time you wonder why you're not Tebow,
Nor Gisele, Obama, Beyonce or Leo,

Ask yourself if you can wipe your tears

And feel lucky that you are still in the years

Where your body works, and your mind still commands it

Someday you may have it all go away

That day may be closer to today

Than you'd like to think

(And others would too).

Loss is a gift.

It reminds us we had "it."

So celebrate gently

Your blessings disguised.