The Smile

What was God up to

when he came up with this smile thing?

--when it was implanted

within the potentiality of any man, any woman,

any child, or in each and every oldster--

this capacity to instantly broadcast

Joy!

and then project that joy across space,

and time,

sowing contentment like seed corn

into the swirly-world fields of people and places.

Here comes one now-- an unexpected smile that

lands suddenly upon my stony day.



What in heaven's name was Creator intending,

by positioning at the corners of any living human mouth,

or in just any wagging bouche or yapping trap,

this little trickle,

this glistening trace element

of radiant happytude; it shines

through the air, and boldly accross errant cares,

leaping out at us like it owns the place.

What a forcefield of fulfillment,

this silent manifestation of mirthy music!

How could such insignificant little corners of a person's

upturned lips,

dancing with the wrinkly corners of their bright eyes

ever so gracefully--

how could this facial arrangement display

such uninhibited sparkle

such irrefutable iris gleams?

How could this smile leap forth so freely

to disable nearby gloom

and decimate delinquent dismay?

So unashamedly is this random joy

flung at us passersby,

as if to smother with contentment our alienation, outperforming our angst,

destroying our dread,

trumping our worry, like some ace of hearts hidden beneath love's sleeve.



See the waitress over there

hispanic looking gal--

she doesn't even need to

do the lips maneuver,

doesn't even need to turn on a residual sparkle.

Her countenance, by some indeterminate power,

radiates well-being

before the mouth even catches up.

How does she do that?

Wonder what God was up to, enacting

this sublime power of the smile.

Look! There it flashes again.


Glass half-Full