[winter]

Happiness is something that one settles for

After the ups and downs of ecstasy.

Perhaps one doesn’t know what one is looking for;

Perhaps one doesn’t realize one is free.

Year’s end is time to tally up the tentacles,

Needing an occasion to take stock.

Everywhere are angels singing canticles

Well beyond the confines of the clock.

Years, no more than seconds, are but moments,

Each eternity again, again.

All live on the wheel of joys and torments,

Returning to the ramparts of the wind.

[t3xPeRt]

[winter]

thaxxx......