River smile

The sound of triumph whistling through the air catches the breath as it escapes my humble lips,

Seeking to shout yet trying to remain silent, not wanting to announce its arrival,

Yet bursting with anticipation, long boded not with ill-will but with patience.

Try as you might, you cannot hide the crinkle by your eyes, the slow spread of your cheeks as they taste the exuberance of joy,

Of peace flowing like a river that cannot run dry, even when many have gathered from its banks, filling buckets, still overflowing