Thank You For Turkeys Who Make The Long Pilgrimage
I can see them from here.
Here they come, walking side by side in a long line that spans the continent. They have been walking for days, with two days left on their passage.
They are on a spiritual quest, a walk about, to discover their destiny and the meaning of life.
They have prepared for this moment since birth, grooming, meditating, cultivating inner strength, and reading the great books of Betty Crocker.
They are the flightless, the ground walkers, the giblet makers, the feathered avatars with wattles.
Here they come in all their glorious martyrdom for the sake of our own sustenance.
They continue the pilgrimage, as their fore bearers did, the historic journey defined by food chain laws, walking in monastic dedication.
I hear their songs of liberation, in unison they gobble and cluck the rhythms, the hymns of their fate.
They are the masters of the plate journey.
They draw followers behind them as they walk toward our homes.
The followers, I can’t quite see their faces but.. I think… they kinda look like… yes! It’s mashed potatoes and gravy! It’s pumpkin pie and yams! It’s tiny cranberries, rolling along behind them!
Bless them all!