All the Boys and Girls Now

Joy:

Transfixed on paper the butterfly thought
Blinks on a pin: All is well. 

Some delusions are foolish, distraught
Attempts to reduce their stormy swell
And tumult prove, yet keeping track
Of how they go, one soon can tell
Which to follow, which put back. 

And once determined, the results may fill
A page, a pedestal, or room,
Resounding like a cathedral bell
Which shakes the building with its boom
And booms to heaven: All is well! 

Emma Swan.