You have to believe in happiness,
Or happiness never comes.
I know that the bird chirps none the less,
When all that he finds is crumbs.
You have to believe that winds will blow,
Believe in the grass, the days of snow,
Ah, that’s the reason the bird can sing:
On his darkest day he believes in Spring.
You have to believe in happiness,
It isn’t an outward thing;
The Spring never makes the song, I guess,
As much as the song makes the Spring.
Aye, man’s heart could find content,
If it saw the joy on the road it went,
The joy ahead when it had to grieve,
For the joy is there - but you have to believe.
by Douglas Malloch
BE YOU