Happiness is a short-lived
fancy
chocolate kisses wrapped
in coconut promises
to be savored for a moment
but once savored
is but a memory
I sit in the aftermath
of happiness
alone with my memories
and try to discern
their precise moment
that happiness died
nothing good ever lasts
in its state of placid perfection
for too long
life stumbles in
clumsy and inappropriately
enthusiastic
like foals in a crystal shop
life is messy and loud
and disruptive
and the its happiness is only
temporary
the book tells me
to shoot for Joy
as a framework
for seeing all things
in this world
but that seems
too daunting a task
an impossibly small challenge:
Joy
as I look around this world
scattered with the debris
and remains of all
the happiness that died
and was replaced by everything
that wasn’t happiness
I take stock
and note
that I still have hope
for another taste
coming from
a completely
unexpected
place.