
Nearly all we do is transitory
Much like many aspects of life
Happiness itself- is oft fleeting
In its very authentical fashion
From one moment to moments
Chaos only reins in its absence
We are so sensitive to change
To those often-missed nuances
Noticing more the empty voids
Attributing something outside
Of our own self for love and joy
Oft correlated it to other people
Forgetting we are centrical to it
As both may seek refuge… in us
.
Poet of the Light © 2022