It is the first time in months,
And it feels as if the pleasant
Hands of
God
Are hoisting me up,
So that one solitary
Fingertip may briefly touch the
Holy hinges of the
Pearly gates.

It never lasts long,
It is usually a fleeting encounter,
Therefore,
It must be sacred.

Still,
I can hear harps playing,
Feel feet dancing,
Heart beats pounding with passion
Within the walls of this very
Room and the very
Chamber of my own heart.

And so,
Happiness enters,
And so,
Happiness fills,
And so,
Happiness empties.