The dust under mindless feet

The wake of men and women

Neither here nor there

Neither now nor then nor ever

The air rustled gently by the flight

Of white doves

The crackle of the flame

Burning eternally smokeless

The drop of sweat beading

Down a pack donkey

The rattle of a beggar’s bowl

And the chime that stirs when

A bell has already rung

Itself hoarse

The wear and tear of smooth stone

Over centuries

The gust of wind on a dry

Summer afternoon

The swirl of autumn leaves

As they let go

So irrevocably, never to return

The turn of wheels- in the

water, in the mills grinding

grains of wheat, true

gold of the earth,

the turn of the stars

the silent joy of sanctuaries

the language that trees

shout and laugh and sing in

the movement of their dance

the darting impulse of one

thought after another

and light behind the retina

of my two eyes and the

one and two and three eyes of

all beautiful things that

blink in wonder at

a new sunrise

and the orchestra of the setting sun

there is no joy as potent as the one that flows

my veins

and I swear, I swear, I swear

that I am at once all

of this

and utterly nothing.


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One thought on “Joy

  1. this is a great piece of writing my friends and makes us reflect within ourselves.
    may we live simple lifestyle and just as a source of joy, so everyone is happy, content, gay and full of joy 🙂


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