The elevator broke, and I climbed the stairs,
Four flights up in Bogotá’s air.
And when it hummed and rose once more,
I felt the thanks I’d missed before.

 

Gratitude blooms when you let it arise—
Not just through loss, but with open eyes.

 

You glide past gifts like they aren’t there,
Blind to that feast that’s beyond compare.
Imagine those comforts taken away,
And when they return, it makes your day!

 

It’s not a loss that needs to ignite
Those embers warm of deep delight.
You can imagine your life stripped bare,
It’ll stir up thanks for what’s still there.

 

Gratitude blooms when we let it arise—
Not just through loss, but with open eyes.

 

Biases cloud the lens you wear:
Entitlement, habit, and constant compare.
The more you gain, the less you see—
Your heart grows numb to luxury.

 

To feel the truth, you must admit
That risk is real, it is legit.
Security’s myth that makes you forget
To cherish what you have, you won’t regret.

 

Gratitude blooms when we let it arise—
Not just through loss, but with open eyes.

 

So train your soul to taste the loss,
Then savor each returning sauce.
Strip the world of things you’ve got—
Then delight in your jackpots.

 

Age has shown me contrast clear—
What once was not, I now hold dear.
Gratitude’s not just acting nice—
I deeply feel my paradise.

 

Gratitude blooms when we let it arise—
Not just through loss, but with open eyes.