Happiness Poem by Kwai Chee Low

The horizon, a defining line
of clear blue skies above
and golden paddy fields below.
Straw-hatted women, their skin
long darkened by the relentless sun,
wielding their sickles, singing their song.

Joy abounds once more, the Rain God
has been generous, despite
the drought of yesteryears.
The fat grains swell the paddy sheaths,
gleaming in the hot afternoon sun.
a harbinger of plenty soon to come.

That night the crescent moon glows
shyly in its toothless smile.
Villagers dance and sing,
around a fire of sandlewood,
its fragrance lingering through the night.
Happiness comes easy, on a starry night.