For No Reason At All
For no reason at all the happiness
has come upon me again.
It's not yet even fall,
but a rustle of color is in my heart
and everything sounds like a New Age piano,
an accompaniment to a tune yet unsung,
unending runs, chords
as bright as the underside of leaves
that turn in the wind,
taking silver from the night
and giving it to the day.
It is enough:
all that can be, and will ever be
in a world whose eternity
is of my own making,
a moment fixed
in splendor,
finding and holding
what need not be reached for.
(c) 2004 by Robert M. Giannetti
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