Let me see your little collection of happiness
Turn out your pockets
let me see your little collection of happiness and i’ll show you mine. let’s make this a turn-out-your-pockets kind of thing. what pebbles of content do you noodle with in your bag while standing in line at the store or while whiling away another day’s end? do you crochet stinkbugs, collect WNBA? write postcards finish 10ks race Mario trace lineages slouch on the pavement chalking pastel copies of van gogh? do you gather sticks to whittle while out walking, or is the walk the thing itself with a clutch of friends, voices shingling? tell me how you spritz your day with slender pleasures and nubby buoyances-- is it flying on wheels? tripping through clouds? shimmying on boards? let’s grab a cold sip and sprawl on bellies here for a sec -- share yarns. toss out our marbles on the rug so as to better consider their first, finest and foremost qualities. and if it so happens heavy heads prevail let’s lay that last marble down too. what’s more important anyway than catching up together on a few juicy z z z z z z z z
“There is no such thing as personal happiness.
Happiness is one hundred percent relational.”
Poem 10 of 31 in the series “The Liminal Season.”
Today’s word prompt was “happiness,” from my sister, Ann. There are few people in the world, for me, who can invoke more happiness than my sisters.
What’s in your little collection of happiness?
"tell me how you
spritz your day" ❤️