Happiness
It was dusk, the sky was
Almost blue-black
I was in the meadow
Picking wild flowers
Every flower glowed:
White, orange, red,
Violet, blue, yellow…
Every flower seemed
To burn by itself
Softly, gently, purely
And this beauty, these scents
These colors, made me think
That moments like this were
Buds on the tree of life
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