Willing

Joy

is a willing thing

if

you are patient

enough

to look for her.

You can find her

in the wafts

of steam

swirling over

that first

cup of coffee.

You can find her

in the glint

of golden sunlight

that breaks through

the trees in

the morning.

You can find her

in giggles,

and the tiny footsteps

chased tiredly

over

and

over.

You can find her

in the notes

of your favorite

song

the prismatic swirls

of oil on water

the feel of a pen

gliding over paper

like a figure skater

carving the ice

into beautiful

elegant

motions.

You can find her

in silence

and in stillness

when at last

you get a chance to

breathe.

And you can find her,

if you are willing,

in the looking glass.