Sometimes life can seem so ineffably complicated, so full of tumult and drama, that it feels as if we will never be calm again. And then, every now and then, we come upon a moment of peace. The clouds part, the wind dies down; suddenly, we can breathe again – and we discover that the noise and bother were in our heads all along. The world turns out to be quite a simple place, really, when we approach it in the right frame of mind.

It is exactly this simplicity that Wendy Cope opens out for us, like an orange peeled in a single spiral, in this wonderful poem. Happiness, she suggests, is not majestic, complex or even hard-won. It is straightforward, and can come upon us at any moment. We may be sharing a meal, taking out the bins or walking down a street holding hands, when all of a sudden we are struck by a miraculous thought: ‘I’m glad I exist’.

How strange that this should be a revelation; and yet I defy anyone not to be uplifted by the final line of this poem. Put so simply, it seems – if you’ll excuse my language – a celebration of the bleeding obvious. Of course most people are glad that they exist, most of the time. And yet how many of us have taken the time to really think it, to celebrate our lives even when they are uneventful?

For those of us who are not so glad right now, this poem is also a tonic. It is a reminder, whether you are unhappy, lost or even suicidal, that the simple bliss of existence resides in the most banal of things. One day soon, you will find yourself sharing an orange, or a kiss, or a smile with a stranger on the street, and you too will be glad to be here. Isn’t that worth existing for?