Poems ✍️

Joy
gets a bad press
from poets and divines –

it’s fleeting, can’t
be trusted, brings

a downside;

better far they say
is bliss: quiet, indifferent,
that is, beyond all differences
that sadden; divisions
that steal our perfect,
timeless, spaceless I guess
unity

this poem looks
with joyful hope
or hopeful joy
well joy and hope
or would joy or hope be enough,
Paul,

to a future bliss
which when found
has no past or future but
only the perfect present
of the perfect present.

[another one with acknowledgements to Eckhart Tolle and ‘The Power of Now’…]