Happiness is a man thing
A woman thing, a together thing
Perhaps something meaningful
An illusion or perhaps nothing

It can be a puddle of sunlight
Splotched on the pavement
Or a bundle of hugs and kisses
Waiting in the basement

Can be the smile of the moon
Giving you friendly tips
To utter the romantic trio
Eluding your quivering lips

Can be the joy of sharing
Whatever little you possess
With those outstretched hands
In anguished and dire duress

Or an evening of gossip
With your family, your own
Comfortable and cosy
In the warmth of your home

Coming to think of it
Maybe nothing at all
Which you can count or touch
Tangible, distinct or tall

Just a state of mind
With the heart on a song
Sailing the zephyr
On a sunlit everyday morn

Subir Chakraborty / 1st June 2018