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Joy
As if a wild river
So to is a life well lived
The lazy paths of moments and minutes
Given to another
Gains for thyself
The passions and desires and purposes
Hidden within, yet wholly felt
The search is inevitable
For that precious piece of tangible joy
But, such a search is futile
Lest the search employs the mapping of thyself
Binary and blinking lights
Return the canary to the sky
From the blackest caves knowing only night
But, machines break and bust
And, machines separate us
From the very things we seek so much
Like life and love and true experience
Simplicity once was so simple
The thread and the thimble
The wool and the lyre have all disappeared
And, now moments and minutes symbolize
The currency we use to compare against our neighbors
The size and scope, the merit of our labor
Still, the joy eludes us
