Poem: The Speed of Joy

the gardens of Troy 2

The Speed of Joy

Slow down.
Smell the air as you drive.
Taste deeply.
Listen intently.
Breathe and be thankful.

These are your weapons
against a dark world that threatens
to subdue, that consumes and devours.

Slow down.
Claim the beauty.
Hold it close.
A cup of coffee.
New flowers in the garden.
Gentle conversation on the porch.
A child’s giggle.
A lover’s coo.

Hold them close
and breathe them in like power
and the frenzy will pass
while you still stand,
a flower in the field,
laughing at the rain.

About this poem

I woke up in a dark place this morning. A short bout of depression to start my day. But I am not a warrior new to this battle. I popped out of bed, and began by slowing down.

Slowing down and connecting with all that I do. Mindfully tasting, feeling, smelling my world pushes out the speculation and lies of a depressed brain. I have learned. So, a slow cup of coffee (so rich, extra cream, yum), smelling the butter as eggs sizzle happily, feeling the cool breeze blow across my face, the boards rough against my feet.

The brain, my brain at least, is susceptible to hard reality. Only reality is not that hard.  Life can be, but reality, the moments, are full of joy and pleasure. A cat on my lap. The deep ringing of chimes outside.  New flowers in the garden.

Slow down. There’s a world out there dying to be noticed, dying to heal.


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