joy is hard
or simple either
or both like the blooming of a rose
and the hips it leaves behind
we each of us think so much
and yet the world moves on
how could we rest from the passage of time?
and yet joy is easy
or difficult or neither
like finding beautiful words you hadn't thought
still in the air in your voice
and so joy is shared
like food like encouragement to sing
in the luck of difference
and the abundance of harvest