I have been pondering this lately…what does it mean to feel truly happy?  Are happiness and contentment the same thing?  I often feel contentment when I am doing something I enjoy.  When I am standing on the sand, listening to the waves as I look out across the water, I feel a deep sense of peace.  When I watch children laugh and play on the beach, I feel a mixture of pleasure and nostalgia, remembering my own little ones at the beach.  When I work in my garden, I feel a sense of peace and accomplishment, knowing that I am helping something beautiful grow.  When I read a book or write in my journal in front of the fire, I feel a quiet contentment settle over me. When I write a poem or paint a picture or make something beautiful, I feel pleasure, knowing that I have created something special.  When I share a meal with family members or friends, I feel a sense of comfort and companionship. I wonder, are these all variations of the word happiness?  I think of them as tiny bits of joy interwoven throughout my days.  They are fleeting, yet wonderful, and I cherish these feelings. This brings me to wonder, what is happiness to you?

                  Happiness
          By Krista Longeway

The butterfly dances across the sky
Coming to rest on a flower nearby
Delicate wings that are as fine as lace
Opening and closing with gentle grace
And then to my wonder and my delight
The butterfly continues with her flight
She flutters happily on summer air
Then, as on a whim, without any care
She lands on my shoulder for a moment
A brief interlude, then away she went
Elusive as happiness and as sweet
And as though by chance, the two of us meet
Then she flutters away upon the breeze
In a joyful dance beyond the tall trees