Happiness is half real and half haunting. A moment is half passion and half dream. Perhaps there is no richness without wanting. Perhaps the things we yearn for only seem. Yet there are things that over time accrue, Enduring through integrity and will, Implicit every day in what we do, Grace that blooms in soil we turn and till. How beautiful to celebrate in passing The things that last, the loves that years prove true, Happiness long lived yet longing still.