My mother would have turned 104 this year. She wrote this when she was 19. It’s beautiful is it not?
I called to Happiness that she should come to me,
That she should dwell with me and never go,
Yet heard she not.
I sought for Joy in all the lingering shades,
That mask the day’s retiring form from man,
Yet saw I not.
I prayed to her at night as to a God,
And held my arms out wide to supplicate,
Yet spake she not.
I promised her my love and in my breast
I felt my youthful heart crave her embrace,
Yet loved she not.
And then in learning’s page I sought to find
All that within my heart I longed to read,
Yet read I not.
In children’s eyes, in friendship with mankind,
In garish pleasure and wild life I sought;
Yet came she not.
And then, when in despair I ceased to seek at all,
Goodness and God came hand in hand to look for me.
And happiness was God.