A Happy Poem

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Lucid Crow

A poem contemplating happiness

Try to write a happy poem

I tell myself

The truth is that I’m not happy

I haven’t been for some time

It’s not as though I’m unfamiliar with happy thoughts

 

Sure I’ve seen the sunset

Lighting the sky ablaze in color

Each cloud a solar canvas

As daylight fades into celestial bodies

Each day a new masterpiece

 

I’ve basked in the night

Star-speckled void of beautiful darkness

Luna in full casting her pale light

Streetlights, fireflies, Christmas lights

Neon illuminating black rain-drenched roads

 

I’ve marveled at the royal floral carpet

Adorning the vibrant fields of Spring

White popcorn flowers ornamenting the trees

A reprieve from the fell chill of Winter

Promising children the freedom that Summer brings

 

And I’ve felt the cool Autumn breeze

Refreshing chill after the ceaseless sun

The leaves turn from green to fire

Every tree a phoenix waiting to be reborn

Promising yet another year will come

 

I’ve travelled to many a fantasy realm

Painted worlds under the pages

Tales unfolding behind the screens

Worlds where imagination may run wild

And fate is of our own design

 

I’ve walked upon real places of wonder too

The sands before the endless blue

Mountains sleeping soundly in their green beds

Rivers carrying tales of phantoms long deceased

Fields of war, once soaked red, now verdant green

 

Yes, I’ve contemplated what lies beyond

Enamoured at the thought of piercing the veil

Heights of the cosmos and depths undersea

Realms mundane and divine

Ever out of my reach, unknown

 

I’ve listened to a song

And heard Music’s majestic voice

Capturing emotion in a bottle

Preserving the ineffable for all to witness

Laying bare the soul’s inner depths

 

Today I’ve laughed at a joke or two

Certainly I look forward to the small things

New shows or funny memes

Sprinkling some color into the gray

Drip-feeding the starving soul

 

But tomorrow I wont remember

Even in a few minutes it’s all gone

Why is happiness so fleeting?

To where must it fly away?

What can I offer to it to make it stay?

 

Trapped behind illusory walls

Listening to the silence growing louder

Happiness crumbles into rubble

And dreams wither in harsh reality

Longing ever remains unfulfilled

 

Happiness is like a butterfly fluttering by

Disappearing like the blooms of Spring

A momentary smile

Some small sound of laughter

But then its gone

 

But despair is an undercurrent

Always pulling, never relenting

A forced march through the muck and mire

Don’t stop soldier

The war is never won

 

Sisyphus is ever tasked with pushing his boulder

Yet to success he never reaches

Hades has no mercy for the dreamer

And all his effort is in vain

For the boulder ever rolls back down again

 

There is a song that brings to mind an image

A scene of a vast scorched wasteland

Nothing but bones, ashes, and dust

All is motionless, silent, dead…

Save for one

 

A single red flower poking through the debris

Glorious to behold and bewitching to the senses

Singing a music that the heavens envy

A single rose for the love for life

The only beauty among the wreckage

 

Tell me then, ye who read this

Is the rose worth the wasteland?

Would you cross through desolation to see it?

How far would you journey to hear its sweet song?

Is the suffering worth the beauty?

 

If pleasure is so transient

But misery is ever present

Nay not even misery

Just the apathetic worthless dust

Is it worth the journey to the rose?

 

One might say no

Why journey for a beauty unknown

When after the flower has withered in your hand

There is happiness no more?

Another journey to find another flower

 

But perhaps one might dare to say yes

For a moment of wonder

Is worth a thousand miles of waste

That the rose is all the more beautiful

Because it is rare

 

So then what price can someone put on the rose?

Were the sky to sell each masterpiece, could we afford it?

Yet it is given to us freely every day

How could we ever hope to buy every star in the sky?

There aren’t enough jewels on earth to outnumber the stars

How many pennies could purchase all of Spring’s flowers?

Yet nothing is asked for them

Could money ever purchase the colors of Autumn?

A dollar is nothing more than useful fiction

How much is a single fantasy worth?

To put a price on fantasy is to put a price on imagination

Who could pay to see all the wonders of the world?

Not in a lifetime could you ever see everything

How much would it take to explore all of the realms unknown?

Humanity will be long dead before all mystery is exhausted

How much time would it take for every song to be written?

Yet I could listen to the same old song forever

Even the small moments, humble as they are

Are they not worth something?

 

If our lives’ intersection with the cosmos cannot be measured

And the beauty of nature cannot be priced

Even if we experience the priceless in a finite sliver of time

In the great weighing of the scales

Can the dust ever hope to outweigh the rose?


Submitted: July 14, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Lucid Crow. All rights reserved.

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