Musings of the Mad

My heart is of blizzards.

Of seasonal storms—

(We probably should cuddle

To try and stay warm.)

We’ll break out in flowers

From heads to our toes,

And daffodils crown us

In all sorts of rows.

We’ll only see rainbows from

Heaven to there.

Birds will fill trees almost

Everywhere.

I hear them all singing

They’re outside the door.

They’re sitting on branches

It is what they’re made for.

Sometimes we won’t settle

For just good enough.

We’ll strive to seek wonder,

And call the world’s bluff.

And we will find pleasure in

Absence of pain.

What more can you hope for in

Fate’s cruel refrain?