"Are You Happy?" - To My Dad [Original Poem by Tersina]
Once was there a girl,
happy and free as a person
can be.
She was skipping along
on life's narrow pool,
just stopping to bump
the edges
now and then.
But then once
did this girl
begin to question
whether there was more
to life
than walking on the surface
of life's narrow pool,
did she begin to realize
that she had only skimmed
the surface
of what life
had to offer.
And once
that girl
touched that thought,
once she had opened
that Pandora's Box,
did she realize
there was no
putting her mind
to following in Dad's footsteps,
constantly
going
"splash, splash, splash"
because, see,
in life,
the
happy ones
are
the ones
who
don't question,
don't look ahead,
only
keep
skip-skipping,
splash-splashing,
until
the
very end, see?
And
if
she did just that,
surely the young girl
would
be
happy.
But once she began
to loosen
that cap on that bottle,
that bottle of poisonous
thoughts,
did she see
that no,
no, she wasn't happy
following
in Dad's footsteps,
not happy being the rich and successful
lawyer she was going
to be,
because what is "happiness"
that flows
through your hands
like quicksand,
from "gourmet meal" to "gourmet meal,"
what defines
a "success"
measured only
by how many digits a person's salary
is,
what constitutes throwing
one's life away
just by living it?!
"NO!"
screamed the little girl.
"I DON'T WANT
TO BE
A DOCTOR, LAWYER, OR AN ENGINEER!"
Only, she
wasn't quite so young
anymore.
And she was no longer
splish-splashing
through life,
leaving messy puddles
of water and dirt-
mud, really-
in her wake.
No, Dad, this- this-
little,
young,
old,
sad,
small,
scared,
proud,
- this girl doesn't
want
to work
nine-to-five
at a job she hates,
Dad.
She wants
to see
what is beyond
that bright, glimmering
surface of all life
has to offer,
to dive
into that pool,
and swim
among the red, blue, orange,
RAINBOW
schools of fish
and
kicked-up sand.
She wants
to meet
others like her,
to see
a reflection-
a refraction-
of what she looks
like
in others.
Most of all, Dad,
she wants
you
to see
that life
beyond the surface
is possible,
that diving
into the ocean
won't
unearth ancient wrecks
of what happened before
her,
and that she
has the lung capacity
to go
as far
as she wants.
happy and free as a person
can be.
She was skipping along
on life's narrow pool,
just stopping to bump
the edges
now and then.
But then once
did this girl
begin to question
whether there was more
to life
than walking on the surface
of life's narrow pool,
did she begin to realize
that she had only skimmed
the surface
of what life
had to offer.
And once
that girl
touched that thought,
once she had opened
that Pandora's Box,
did she realize
there was no
putting her mind
to following in Dad's footsteps,
constantly
going
"splash, splash, splash"
because, see,
in life,
the
happy ones
are
the ones
who
don't question,
don't look ahead,
only
keep
skip-skipping,
splash-splashing,
until
the
very end, see?
And
if
she did just that,
surely the young girl
would
be
happy.
But once she began
to loosen
that cap on that bottle,
that bottle of poisonous
thoughts,
did she see
that no,
no, she wasn't happy
following
in Dad's footsteps,
not happy being the rich and successful
lawyer she was going
to be,
because what is "happiness"
that flows
through your hands
like quicksand,
from "gourmet meal" to "gourmet meal,"
what defines
a "success"
measured only
by how many digits a person's salary
is,
what constitutes throwing
one's life away
just by living it?!
"NO!"
screamed the little girl.
"I DON'T WANT
TO BE
A DOCTOR, LAWYER, OR AN ENGINEER!"
Only, she
wasn't quite so young
anymore.
And she was no longer
splish-splashing
through life,
leaving messy puddles
of water and dirt-
mud, really-
in her wake.
No, Dad, this- this-
little,
young,
old,
sad,
small,
scared,
proud,
- this girl doesn't
want
to work
nine-to-five
at a job she hates,
Dad.
She wants
to see
what is beyond
that bright, glimmering
surface of all life
has to offer,
to dive
into that pool,
and swim
among the red, blue, orange,
RAINBOW
schools of fish
and
kicked-up sand.
She wants
to meet
others like her,
to see
a reflection-
a refraction-
of what she looks
like
in others.
Most of all, Dad,
she wants
you
to see
that life
beyond the surface
is possible,
that diving
into the ocean
won't
unearth ancient wrecks
of what happened before
her,
and that she
has the lung capacity
to go
as far
as she wants.