Mellifluous isn’t on one list, though it is on others.
Because it rolls over the tongue so smoothly,
it should be highly caloric. But tremulous is,

which makes me quiver saying it, and
luminous shining its bright self, as well as
diaphanous. All these -ous suffixes,

I realize, sweeten the mouth—even
nefarious, a less-pretty word, meaning-wise.
But so many of the prettiest words

on the list that found its way to me
depict something lovely—gossamer
or tranquility, incandescent and murmuring.

Oh, the epiphany of petrichor, that pleasant,
earthy smell after rain, so ephemeral
in its gossamer radiance reminding me

that some of the briefest moments,
like a new day’s aurora, filling me
with ebullience, watching the gleam

of a halcyon moment—one, the dictionary
reminds me, characterized by happiness,
so calm, so peaceful. One we’re all

looking for, which might find its way
to us when we stop searching, when we stop,
take a breath and, instead of being,

just be.