"I thought of happiness, how it is woven / Out of the silence in the empty house each day / And how it is not sudden and it is not given / But is creation itself like the growth of a tree. / No one has seen it happen, but inside the bark / Another circle is growing in the expanding ring. / No one has heard the root go deeper in the dark, / But the tree is lifted by this inward work / And its plumes shine, and its leaves are glittering."

--from May Sarton's "The Work of Happiness" #poetry