I came past a cherry tree all out pink in flower
It smelled so delicate, so fleeting sweet
It reminded me of happiness
And for a second I was happy.
It got me thinking
How could I be always happy?
The answer came:
If that cherry tree was mine
And stood all day outside my window
That’s how I’d be happy.
A cloud came then:
The tree would have to blossom 24/7
I felt like crying:
I’ll never be happy and yet
I’m always happy
And the tree has nothing to do with it.
It’s just day in day out a cherry tree busy doing its own generous and ecstatic cherry thing.

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