Consider this —we’re made of joy—
We’re not some sentience
waiting to be pleased,
judging conditions as
propitious or alarming,
manipulating circumstances, hoping
that we’ll be glad instead of disappointed.
Joy is what we are,
and the whole grand purpose
of our days
sings out from here,
dances in the rays of
All That Is,
already perfect, infinite,
each moment designated
to bring this essence forth
as we rejoice
in our unbounded worth.
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