Happiness, by Tom Mukasa

Happiness

It starts,
 like distant rumbles,
slow,
 sure clouds gathering,
passing over your head,
to a distant horizon,
a tingling, emptiness, fear or longing,
assuaged by presence, restitution,
a boldness whose tears are deserved,
a revelation,
a realization, 
a heart-stopper,
sounds rise from within,
lips are opened in awe,
praise,
a conversation runs fleetingly off the lips,
once untold,
a ransom,
happiness ceases to be private,
it assumes a community garb,
touched, felt, pressed and held,
in ways the community finds fit,
clairvoyance, fortune-telling,
muscles constrict,
limbs spring,
body is lifted and spirit soars,
overwhelming meekness and self-awareness,
happiness is a sky on which the stars are pinned,
for their light lays bare the way,
the glow is a balm.

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