Happiness is neither here nor there.
All we have and are is like the snow.
Pain and pleasure tend to come and go.
Paradise is with us everywhere.
Years shall burn away in that bright sun
As we become like children once again,
Needing neither clarity nor gain,
Nor caring where the stream of joy might run.
In each of us there is a wilderness
Vast and undisturbed, a silent space,
Eternal, ever green and full of grace,
Recycling the wastes of our distress.
So may you walk in beauty far more bright
And lasting than what fades before your eyes,
Rejoicing in a love that never dies
Yet finds its way along the edge of night.

About the Author:
Nicholas Gordon


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