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J o y |
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This terrible Joy is a cruel master,
explosions of feeling full, full, full, full this joy that ascends my being this behind-the-lids colouring crayon sun on the skin wind in the hair waves crashing, ecstasy wind whistling, take me I am being battered by joy buffeted by happiness the unthought, the invisible the hard subtlety of Joy Take breath into my lungs feel my eyes fill at this beauty, how can Joy hurt? Speechless, no words to describe why invisible circles of unseen eagles, unfelt touches of spirits make me feel this way My soul needs its fix of Joy (1996)  |
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