Happiness, Crocus In Snow
What is happiness but the falling away, however short, of suffering?
Would I hear the haunting, beautiful wind without
the small spaces created by my earphones?
Would I know the joy of a child's laugh
if I didn't yearn for it to erupt from my own belly?
The sight of the first yellow crocus
could not be so kind without the cruel snow
that tries to hide it.
Copyright © Don Munro | Year Posted 2012
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