What does it mean to be happy? 

It’s a question I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember.

Sure, I’ve had moments when I’ve not felt terrible,

Where the clouds part in my brain if only for a brief second before collapsing into a storm.

What does it mean when you feel that but just… all the time?

Maybe not that much, but I’d like it to drizzle,

Or be even just an overcast grey sky. 

I used to think about that,

But I’ve seen it.

And it’s not overcast,

There’s something beyond the clouds.

A radiant light painting the sky,

The clouds too worried to ruin the masterpiece. 

Her glow shining on to the forests below,

Bathing the leaves in the light.

Slowly unraveling the tangled weeds left vacant on the trees.

It’s a beautiful day outside,

It’s always a beautiful day. 

Because even when the clouds return and the colours start to fade,

I feel shelter in your shimmer.

Your shine refracts through the raindrops,

Decorating my world with wonder. 

And if rain clouds were to have faces,

Mine would be forever smiling thinking about you.