New Year’s Day

Who divided this day into new?

Who decided the 24 hour passing of sun and moon

would make a new beginning?

A New Beginning

Marked time to measure our days.

Marked time to dial forward to a new possibiity.

What if the possibilities have run out?

What if the blank sheet is just that?

If only we were given blank sheets to draw new pictures of our dreams.

If only we could erase the permanent lines in our past.

But faint lines of the past still rise up, glow through the sheets of our experience.

Faint lines remind us.

Faint lines warn us.

Faint lines cajole us to better words, phrases to direct our lives.

The New Year already yawns at its awakening.

It does not spring forth in enthusiasm.

The stars and lights from the old year burn out one by one.

Party hats and horns cannot herald the heavy load of its new beginning.

It steps awkardly into its role of

wars, famines, and fears we each carry.

It steps timidly into all the unrealistic ideals that have been heaped upon it.

But New Year’s also steps lightly into joy.

New births of babies, ideas, and bright hopes.

It sweeps the path, allowing us to journey in a new way to our self-created destinies.

Happy New Year is the greeting.

Happy to be alive, happy to continue. Happy to hope that something arrives, continues and keeps going.

Happy for delightful unexpectations to knock at our door.

Happy New Year!

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About Victoria Yeary

Author Writer
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