This morning, joy was touching my toes repeatedly like one of those toy birds that dips its beak in water. On vacation, joy is the sea breeze scraping the palm fronds together as I belt out a song in a raspy voice. In the Keys, joy is watching the sunrise twice, once up from the horizon then above the strip of clouds stretched over the sea’s edge. In the city, joy is a honey locust tree in spring with yellow flowers and in autumn, long pods with sweet beans and golden leaves in the swirling wind. In winter woods, joy is staring at the white shrouded landscape, quietly, hoping to see personalities peek from every tree. Point to what brings you joy wait until it steps towards you then look at the shape it leaves in the air to see the flutter of the Spirit.
My joy today is hearing back from you. I hope the poem is helpful and your day is filled with joy.
If you like what I’m doing, share it with a friend.
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