silhouette photo of man with backpack standing in seashore during golden hour
Photo by Samuel Silitonga on Pexels.com



Happiness is a fleeting mist
It’s never with me long,
But its hesitant pulse,
Its arrhythmic throb,
Carry my life along.

Its waves can break on distant shores,
Too far away to matter,
But when they crash
On my foreshore,
Then my worries scatter.

Then my spirits rise to fly,
To join that celestial choir,
To reach for joy,
To realise
All that I desire.