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« The Space that is Everywhere. | Main | Pondering: Truth found in silence »
Tuesday
Feb202018

Pondering: Joy

by Kayce Stevens Hughlett

Another product from my writing group prompts... I think we could all use more joy in our lives, don't you? 

 

When it comes back to you or you yourself return,

joy is simple, unassuming. **

Sunshine following a fortnight of grey.

A deep inhale after holding your breath for

the end of the harrowing story.

Your adult son’s embrace after three years of incarceration

and your daughter’s smile when it finally emerged from

underneath the grey hoodie she wore since tenth grade.

 

Collage by KSHJoy is a strawberry tarte on the river Seine.

A white clad pilgrim’s red shoes, bedazzled like the ones from Oz.

Thick soup on a cold clear day.

The first Om in morning yoga.

A twelve-pound cat purring on your quilt-covered legs.

Diving into read the luscious book that’s been waiting for months.

Skipping around the block, playing hopscotch, finding abandoned

chalk and leaving a secret message for all to read.

 

Joy rings clear like the bells at Notre Dame and

glistens like fresh fallen snow in the Cascades.

When you’ve been away from joy, it seems like it may never return

until suddenly a smile, a wink, a snort of laughter

breaks through the darkened barrier and you’re back.

You’ve arrived at the place called home where joy resides.

You think about tucking it into your pocket like candy to save for later,

but joy thrives in the sharing.

 

Take joy and fling it into the air like confetti at a parade.

Offer it for all to see. Save it from the crevasse of your darkened pocket.

Remember that joy is for all.

It is the other side of hate and rage and fear.

Let joy wash over you like an 80-foot waterfall spitting rainbows into the mist-filled sky.

Wipe your tears with joy. Clean your scraped knees with it too.

Those same knees that kept you inert on the ground, groveling with angst…

when really … all you had to do was fling your arms wide open and invite joy to return.

 

** first line inspired by the poem “Joy” by Thomas Centolella. The rest is mine.

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