I ran afar from dawn’s murky glance
To be found by sun’s encompassing providence.
Sitting on a bench by a cobblestone road,
Observing the infinite pattern formed by their intersecting edges.
Pondering…
What true happiness really is.
Watching a parade of leaves dancing to the tune of wind
That slyly tickles past my face,
Listening to the ever steadfast steam clock
Performing its melodious symphony,
And wishing that someday I might join the birds in their escapade.
But the most joyous of them all:
I write this little poem of vivid perceptions.
And yet I reckon
That it’s just half done, without a closure.
And that I have to write more to be truly happy.
Because a man’s virtues are but balanced by his sins
For I am a little greedy, no doubt.
I was strolling around Water St. in Gastown, Vancouver one morning and found some cozy benches to rest on. As I sipped my coffee and looked around, the street bustling with lively tourists and locals alike, I decided to write this short poem.