But I know the neighborhood And talk is cheaper when the story is good And the tales grow taller on down the line

 Joy does not arrive with fanfare,

on a red carpet strewn with the flowers of a perfect life.
Joy sneaks in, as you pour a cup of coffee,
watching the sun hit your favorite tree, just right.
And you usher joy away,
because you are not ready for it.
Your house is not as it must be,
for such a distinguished guest.
But joy cares nothing for your messy home,
or your bank-balance,
or your waistline, you see.
Joy is supposed to slither through the cracks of your imperfect life,
that’s how joy works.
You cannot invite her; you can only be ready when she appears.
And hug her with meaning,
because in this very moment,
joy chose you.
Donna Ashworth
Art by Inge Löök Oy Ab