A Poem for a Thursday #56

Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash
There is one simple criterion for me to choose a poem. Does it make enough of an impression for me to go back and read it again? And maybe again. This poem did that. I read it three times in a row.

It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.
But happiness floats.
It doesn't need you to hold it down.
It doesn't need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
and disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house
and now live over a quarry of noise and dust
cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities
of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
and love even the floor which needs to be swept,
the soiled linens and the scratched records...
Since there is no place large enough 
to contain so much happiness,
you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you
into everything you touch. You are not responsible.
You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit 
for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it,
and in that way, be known.

So Much Happiness
Naomi Shihab Nye

Brona has shared an absolutely lovely poem this week.

2 comments

  1. That’s beautiful. It matched my mood perfectly today too 💜🎈

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    1. Sometimes you just read a poem on the right day. I'm glad you liked it.

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