The Thought of Happiness

by John Herlihy

The thought of happiness makes me cry,

Happiness, elusive happiness, evokes a sigh.

I see happiness in people and feel just fine,

On their faces broad smiles, their eyes shine.

I see unhappiness in others etched in stone,

With faces faded and pale as bleached bone.

How is it that death can produce such fears,

While a breath of happiness can induce tears.

No account for the range of human emotion,

Happiness and sorrow expressed with devotion.

Their intensity stark but their duration fleeting,

One mind reckons two different hearts beating.

Little do we know of what may make us happy,

Little do we understand what may make us sad.

An infant knows happiness content in a nabby,

A lonely old man forgets what made him glad.

All the happiness lost, all the happiness gained,

When all is said and done, what has remained.