Can happiness by grasped by mind alone?
Here is a photo of me at age three,
Knee-deep in drifts of tulips, a cast stone
Thrown by joy into a vast floral sea,
Waves of tulips bending to let me in.
I am swimming there, before memory
Imprints or judgment alters direction,
So young I am content simply to be.
Sunbonnet askew, bare arms plunged in bloom,
The camera sees me gaze, dazed by glee;
No fine gradations of particular doom,
No thought beyond a present ecstasy.
Old photo, you’re incomplete, like the mind’s light,
So sharply focused in only black and white.