I smile at the mention of joy
as I wipe an errant teardrop
oozing from the left eye
I watch shadows in petal shapes
fall on the whiteness of milk
as it stands poised to boil
spill over on the stovetop
-the chimney above
sucks smoky fumes
with all negative thoughts
from an agitated mind
helps me unpack, unwind
I revisit the bumpy roads,
where the meaning of joy
changed with each jolt
and introduced me to
different facets of sorrow
-it sharpened happy images
Which I sought with fervour
-finding some
-losing some
-living with experiential stains
on consciousness

We appreciate joy more after encountering sorrows.
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We may never have known what is joy in absence of sorrow.
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Absolutely.
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beautiful poetry Reena ❤
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Thanks, Carol!
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Sorrow does make us appreciate the joyful moments and vice versa. I loved “living with experimental stains on consciousness”. Beautifully written ❤️ 🤗
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Life is a series of experiments.
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Indeed 😊
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A beautiful take
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Thanks so much!
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My pleasure
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I wonder if we really can recognize joy if it weren’t for sorrow and pain.
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Bang on! That is exactly what I want to convey.
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❤
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Sometimes joy is sharpened by sorrow, and we can all visualize those bumpy roads. Thank you for writing to the prompt.
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Thank you, Merril!
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You’re welcome, Reena!
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It’s funny how life’s bumps can turn joy to sorrow and back again in instants of time.
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True. It refines our perceptions and expectations.
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It surely does.
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A lovely picture, and loved your poem. ❤
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Thanks again, Diana!
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