Joy comes in many times, many tempos:
It reveals itself noisily, or it hides
In plain sight, in quiet comfort where
It is easily mistaken for boredom.

How easily we dismiss as unworthy
Anything that causes us to enjoy
Where we are rather than search
In vain for somewhere we would rather be;
How we value dubious potential
More highly than irrefutable reality.

Thinking is yet another means we often
Mistake for an end, focussing on
The nuts and bolts while ignoring what
They hold together. It is like taking apart
A painting to find the art: all we are
Left with is indistinguishable dust.

Many years it has taken me to
Accept joy as it comes, but now I am
Determined to make up for all that
I missed while I looked the other way.

08/01/2019

Posted on 08/11/2019
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