Joy

Not by command, not gathered nor rising from things external, it wells within by strength of heart forsaking that which steals it Stronger still it will mature as fruit ripens upon the tree, like Spring after Winter when vibrant color comes in fullness life it brings No matter my trouble and grief I bear by choice it blooms in me, yea, a gift it's true, it heals my soul and shields me from the thief Oh, but how I see it does not yet define me and so far I have to go, my hearts desire, my jaw set firm, by choice it blooms, you see.