Happiness is quiet days
Filled with a hundred thousand moments.
All perceived both outside and within
The majestic continent of your life.
And perhaps, sometimes, in one of them,
You will meet and greet your own heart
As though it was someone you had never before
Every life is a Spring,
A hopeful and fragile thing,
With heavy rains and sunny days,
Our life in every breath.
So new and curious and strange
The path is laid before us,
Yet willfully we bend and push
Our spirit in every step.
Where rivers meet,
In valleys deep,
In hands, in sorrows,
Each with his own take
On scraping rocks
And hostile land,
A strengthening, a mighty merge
To cast away, to formidably fall
And to finally be