Angelic Bliss

Happiness. A state of pure bliss it be, a state all of mankind grapples for and many achieve, but very few keep.

When sought for in wealth and luxury, it is never satisfied. When achieved only by success, it becomes twisted, poisoned. When found in validation, the world controls it.

Such things are fleeting, exhausting. The price ultimately paid is more misery than the happiness. Yet, too often mankind is seduced by their promises, if it can only be achieved.

Amidst my musings, a soft, rustled wind pierces my silence. Not a word spoken nor a tone taken, but a breath. A warm, comfortable sigh escapes the body of the sweet dog, Angel, from her bed where she be propped.

Her dark eyes peer sleepily over my pensive frame before closing once more. Soon, the air is filled with the sound of her content snores, calm, uncaring, the world & all of its problems null and void.

In the midst of her euphoria, discomfort rouses in me. What a simple creature, daring contentment when the comforts she enjoys could be so easily taken away.

But no effort is taken for something as useless to her as money. She shows no inclination to set a goal to achieve in time. And judging by the pair of shoes she so shamelessly destroyed, the validation of mankind is not her primary ideal.

And yet, she has the gall to be happy anyways, with her four legs now propped in the air. The gesture seems imploring, but we both know what happens next.

I scratch the belly of the entitled dog, whose eyes roll & tongue lolls out in what can only be the height of happiness. Surely, nirvana has nothing on Angel at this moment of time.

As my hands stroke the sleek, golden fur, my lips curve into a smile as I realize that Angel’s bliss has now become my own. And it’s good.

Thank you, sweet girl.

-Beth