This piece is from a prompt by Poet Jen Harris:
“Happiness is something one can’t explain. You must take my word for it.” – Willa Cather, The Professor’s House
Describe your happiness, and yours alone.
Bare feet press against the ground, one step after another experiencing all the textures of this little plot of earth that I call home. From our spiky front door mat to the bald patches of sandy brown soil where holes were dug in childhood exploration, to what has survived to be cool blades of grass, until the tender part of my foot finds a stray piece of mulch where no doubt a toddler relocated it in chaotic play.
The warm concrete of our driveway separates me from my people, who I am always wanting to move toward. The sun kisses my naked shoulders and when I close my eyes, I can feel her warmth on my lids, too. Sparrows, jays, and cardinals sing their melodies. I could close my eyes and memorize this moment.
Squirrels skitter across tree limbs above my head and my children laugh from other patches of earth around me. Someone suggests a dance party and a deejay is designated, as tunes from my childhood become tunes of theirs. Love of mine wraps his arms around me and we breathe deeply together. I have only been standing, watching, loving them, for a moment… before this, I rested in a swinging hammock imagining worlds in cloud shapes beyond the branches above me with my most treasured belongings within reach: novel, textbook, perfect pens, and weathered journal. It is understood by my people that I am on call for my inner voice – words will come soon and ask me to labor with them to find a place earth side. And with grace, and space, those people who love me will play and smile at me while I press pen to her natural home on page and write what should not be forgotten.