Friday, December 7, 2012

Joy

Usually, joy is a peeling away
like an orange rind off an orange
or it is a lifting off like a bird in flight,
or it can be going in to sweet sunlight
from a wintry shade or passing cloud.

I want rock-solid joy that doesn't move,
can't peel, is comfortable on its foundation,
need never fly or even become warm.

I can make that joy happen,
but only out of myself,
by carving away all the joy
in which I am nascent.

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