I wrote this poem a few days ago and life has been so hectic since that I didn’t even have time to post it.
Now I look at it and think that when we are really busy, there may not be time to feel unhappy, but neither is there time to discover joy.
Mine is not a happy life
Yet joy is known to me
Who needs to lead a happy life
Once they have glimpsed true joy?
Happiness is fickle
Comes and goes like clouds
Depends too much on others
And passing circumstance
Joy is deeply rooted
Springs from depths eternal
Joy is always there, I know
Though hid beneath the surface.
Rosalie Squires 