When you finally realise, that joy is less fireworks, more firefly. Less orchestra, more birdsong. She will come back much more often. For joy will not fight with the fast pace of this life, she dallies not in the shiny or the new. She breathes in the basic, shimmers in the simple and dances in the daily to and fro. Joy has been beckoning you for many a year my friend, you were just too busy doing, to see. The very next time joy wraps her quiet warmth around you, as the garden embraces your weary body in its wildness. Tip her a nod. You cannot force her to stay but if you are a gracious host...joy comes back.
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