Happiness is wholly in
As one provides the chords to fit the tune,
Pleased to play sweet music by the hour,
Pleased to harmonize one's passing gloom.
Yet there are days demanding dissonance,
Needing harsh accompaniment to pain.
Embrace them, then, and give them resonance,
With brass enough to brighten a refrain.
Years are symphonies of varied mood,
Each sketched out by fate, filled in by you.
As the woodwinds dance, the basses brood,
Resolved in beauty - crafted, yes, but