Joy

I'm not entirely sure where this poem came from. The other day it was just there in my head, refusing to go away. I never write poems, and when I do, they're not very good. That's why I don't know why this one stuck.
I've had a lot of ups and downs lately, but I'd like to think this poem isn't just the outpouring of one of the ups. This is something that welled up in my soul and blossomed out, a feeling captured in words. This is why I love writing so much: because I was able to take this feeling and put into just 216 little words, just one poem that is just one peek into the wonder of the world.


You know that feeling when you realize life is wonderful? It’s not happiness, exactly--happiness is like the sun shining on your face, warming your skin, but this is like taking a big gulp of hot chocolate and feeling it slide down to your stomach, warming you from the inside out. It’s the feeling you get when you go outside in the middle of the night and go somewhere where you’re completely alone and just look around. And you realize how small your problems are in this big world, in this massive scope of things. And everything that’s been churning inside you is finally still. 
And then you look up, and you look around, and it seems like you can see for miles. And this feeling wells up inside you, starting small, but swelling like a balloon, until you just want to sing, to shout to the heavens because it’s a big, beautiful world and it’s all for you, shining in the moonlight, yours for the taking, yours for the searching and the exploring and the living. 
Life is there for the living. 
And you’re standing on a mountaintop, but you don’t come down. Instead, you spread your wings and take off, soaring and gliding and free, for the first time, free in the beautiful blue sky.