Mortal and Happy

No one can be happy all of the time.
What wonders me is
why the foreboding feeling
that I may be struck by lightning?
Why I am wary of this happiness?
Why I am expecting the worst to happen?
When happiness is at it’s peak
it’s as though the devil himself
taps me on the shoulder and makes me remember that
I am only mortal.
I suppose that is the essence
of the great philosophies,
that happiness doesn’t come to stay
but that we are like trees,
stripped of foliage
in an autumn storm.
Stripped naked by merciless nature.
We are like those trees ,
stripped bare
of all cover and protection
from the raging storms of winter.
The winter is our happiness,
freezing and waiting for the spring,
to unfold its sweet merciful buds
and become happiness
in just a moment.
I grab that moment with
all my might
and hang on to it
even though I am wary
of being mortal.