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Writer's pictureJohn J Blenkush

JOY


The greatest delight is the joy of a child.

And a view into the world of (re)discovery. Watching bugs crawl along the sidewalk. Nosing butterflies. Feeling the wonderment of the wind as it stirs (e)motions. Chasing leaves. Not for purpose. But for fun. Wind chimes confound. Questions are asked. Why? Why? Why? Probing. Researching. Prodding. Smelling. Even tasting. Senses charged. Alerted. Absorbing.

Until the unfamiliar becomes familiar. And we tend to lose interest. Move on. Become entrenched. Detached. Cynical. Forgetting life surrounds us. If we’d only pause long enough to let it soak in.

Or until an event, a rebirth, or a child brings us back to nirvana. From which we were born. To which we will return.

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