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Joy
Joy bubbles like a boiling cauldron;
Simmering slowly over the open fire.
Creating a rich and delicious concoction;
Adding a vast variety of sundry flavors.
Uniquely blended, sparing no expense;
My instincts direct, as the recipe is unwritten.
Stirring slowly, hour after hour, stirring slowly;
Flashing off is the fragrance of equanimity.
This potion is almost ready for consumption;
Take a drink every morning upon rising.
The relaxing flavors help me to accept reality;
Whatever comes my way, it is just fine with me.
For joy does not come on the wings of events;
It is separate, unaffected; joy does not judge.
Joy is like tires to ride on the road before us;
Smoothing out the bumps, cushioning the ride.
Joy takes us to spiritual heights consistently;
It is not dependent on happiness or circumstances.
Joy is pure love manifest within our hearts;
Drink until you no longer thirst; drink gulps of joy.
17May11
Fred Pifer
Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades
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