You cannot
Grasp a butterfly
Nor hold
Sun’s golden beams
The joy is real
But no bottle holds
The stuff
That is made of dreams
You cannot buy
Your happiness
You cannot pay
For peace
Force love
Into a storage box
For those rainy days
To keep
These priceless treasures
Are a gift
Innate
In our creation
Accessed
Through the inner door
Of faith
And inspiration