In the grasses on a meadow
there lurks something few will find
though the world longs to own it
always there in the locks of our own minds.
But maybe it's not in the grass
maybe it's in the eyes of a loved one
or in the masterpiece (of any sort)
just finished being done.
We hope it's around the next corner
or in the wake of tomorrow
or the beating in someone else's chest
or buried centuries ago.
Truth s there's no magic or pill
you must find happy by yourself