Happiness is much like brushing teeth:
A semiconscious choice become routine,
Performed through practices sustained, though brief,
Perhaps without much thought for what they mean.
Years of I love you's, kisses, sweet good nights,
Touching, pleasuring, talking, giving, sharing,
Whimsical rituals, familial rites,
Establish a routine for mutual caring.
Nor could such happiness survive for long
The sheer redundancy of daily life,
Yearning for change that sometimes comes on strong,
Self-centered grievances that lead to strife,
If one did not each day renew one's love,
X-ing out the fear that in one moves,
Taking time at times to celebrate
Happiness, and choose again one's fate.