In his pursuit of happiness, he chased the fleeting wind,
Hoping to grasp joy, a kite fluttering un-pinned.
He trekked through thorny paths, scaled walls steep and vast,
Believing joy awaited at the journey's end, at last.
But as he ventured deeper into life's intricate maze,
Among the tangled roots and in the foggy haze,
He realized joy is not a prize at the path's end,
But a bird in flight, found in every bend.
He comes to understand, as shadows weave and shift,
Happiness cannot be chased—it's a gift that drifts.
It finds us when we least expect, in places we've not sought,
In the pursuit itself, a lesson subtly taught.
This poem draws from Viktor Frankl's perspective that happiness isn't a goal to be pursued directly but emerges naturally from leading a life filled with purpose and overcoming challenges. True contentment can only be found in embracing life's path and its inherent struggles... SA
Comments