Welcome back to the blog!
One of the timed writings last night was: "Happiness Is...."

To get us started back--what if each of us contributes a response to this question?
Those who wrote about it last night could copy what you wrote, right here?

Linda

Sitting on the side
of the pool
I noticed a wasp
in the water,
struggling to gain
his wings.
I watched for a moment,
soon realizing
that he was
getting nowhere.
How does one,
 afraid of the sting,
save a frantic stinger?
By carefully lifting him
from the water,
hands cupped
fingers slightly
 crossed.
I imagined him
buzzing his thanks
as he took to the sky,
and left me standing
in the shallow blue.

A Poet's Prayer

If I could spend just an hour
inside Rumi's spirit,
I would know love
that lasts an
eternity.

if I could write with Billy Collins'
 hand,
I would find
myself on the edge
 of a cliff
 admiring the way eagles
glide.

If I could share a thought
with Mary Oliver,
I'd understand
the language of geese
and the other birds that fly
across time.

If I could sit in the mudbaths
with Walt Whitman,
I'd call him my captain
 and we'd laugh
out loud
at the thought
 of it.

O, be my muses, and
come turn
my eyes, my hands,
my heart into
poetry.