The Meaning of Joy

All I have are these: worn hands,
eyes of light, my body's hunger,
my soul's unverifiable loveliness.

And what have I done with this life?

I have been seduced by art, the nature
of birds, the keen faced intelligent
wolves, the edges of the ocean, the mystery

of fog deepening over the shoreline,
the sad, pale face of the moon.

What does it mean to be joyful?

Now at midnight, the strange-dead light
of stars, the rumpled deep throated owl,
moonlight dancing over the lake,

a mirror on fire;

all I need are these: worn hands,
eyes of light, my body's hunger,
my soul's unverifiable loveliness.