I have republished this poem each year for the past five years. I wrote it several days before my wedding to the sweet Diane. Love, Loss, Love again. We are all on the Great Mandela, aren’t we?
could we ever be happy?
I saw some dead leaves on the front stoop,
that I have shared with a wife who is dead,
and which I now share with a wife who is alive.
Should I be sad,
or happy?
Some leaves die,
and others grow to take their place.
All of us will die.
Others will live.
Is that sad?
Is that happy?
I read about sad events in the news.
I read about death and dying.
I read about destruction and evil.
I read about kindness and strength.
I see good deeds in the world.
I see sad people.
I see happy people.
I see the joy in children’s faces.
I see the joy in lovers in the park.
I see the happiness of athletes
playing games.
Is that sad?
Is that happy?
Does sadness live in the world?
Could happiness exist without it?
I have a choice to be sad.
I have a choice to be happy.
How shall I choose?
What will I say to those who choose sadness?
Choose love.
Love will find a way.
I choose to be happy.
