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Happy was his name,

never sad,

never hopeless.

Sun rays kissed his cheeks,

raindrops caressed his smiling lips.

His hands felt like angels,

always loving,

always giving,

always kind.

His friend looted him,

he stood with empty pockets,

still happy.

They bullied him,

treated him worse than a donkey,

a heavy burden on his shoulders,

still happy.

He remained

unchained,

unbound,

unaffected

by worldly suffering.

His heart was light,

full of a quiet joy.

He had attained something spiritual

most never glimpse

even in their final breath.

He was disintegrating,

yet his heart burned bright.

He had no foes,

no real friends.

He surrendered himself

to the divine,

and surpassed every test of life.

Through pain,

through suffering,

through joy,

he moved with the cycle of life,

a wheel that turns

without needing a push.

It doesn’t ask,

it simply moves,

bringing people,

circumstances,

moments.

And he knew

everything here is temporary,

and all will answer

for their karma.

Happy man,

always happy.