So Much Happiness

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.

With sadness there is something to rub against,

a wound to tend to with lotion and cloth.

When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,

something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.

 

But happiness floats.

It doesn't need you to hold it down.

It doesn't need anything.

Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,

and disappears when it wants to.

You are happy either way.

Even that you once lived in a peaceful tree house

and now live over a quarry of noise and dust

cannot make you unhappy.

Everything has a life of it's own,

it too could wake up filled with possibilities

of coffee cake and ripe peaches,

and love even the floor which needs to be swept,

the soiled linen and scratched records...

 

Since there is no place large enough

to contain so much happiness,

you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you

into everything you touch. You are not responsible.

You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit

for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it,

and in that way be known.


Submitted: October 27, 2020

© Copyright 2020 Mark William Johnson. All rights reserved.

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Comments

Steven P. Pody

A daring time to speak of such things. Happiness is someone's truth, and truth is relative. ...But an optimistic heart surely desires unimpeded pursuit where possible. Nice exploration, and well said, sir.

Tue, October 27th, 2020 6:16am

Author
Reply

Thank you for the nice comment, Steven. I covered mental health issues in my last book but this one popped right out in the middle of the rain.

Thu, October 29th, 2020 5:31pm

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