Voices blend in bright splashes of
An eternal child’s song.
Enjoyment rises and wraps around
This funny old place
Like an eiderdown quilt,
Patched in prettiness
And crazy mismatched patterns that
Somehow all work together nevertheless.
Happy is often a hard thing to
Define in me,
Or, perhaps, more so, to hold onto.
For the years have not been kind
In keeping with the smiles.
Where I have strived to pull it round me,
It usually winds up tatters all the while.
This day. This hour. This moment.
I can feel it-Contentment.
Without the constant nagging of fear
In what lies ahead.
Without the relentless tugging in my ear
That whispers past and present dread.
Oh, that I may relish this respite
And allow it to cover me.
Oh, that I may rest
Without spoiling it in the restless wonder of
How long it will last…