One year ends; we wake in a new one.
Long spent, renewed vows to myself, idly from my tongue…my heart?
In that new sun, stretching lazily and long. Standing up.
No fresh start. Still here, same skin. Every blessed day.
What now? Ponder.
To see the sun. Trust it’s there, hot beyond the clouds. It is.
The faces of my children, sacred, soft, through the everyday, ordinary monotony.
To see myself, flaws fresh each day. Beloved.
A time committed. My heart quickened. No auspicious, lofty wings–life, reverent, this sweet frame.
These shrieks, these noisy tributes. Short-lived, open my ears.
Steeped, turbulence-tumbled, precious time ahead. Then vast, free and soundless space and turning softly, toward only he.
Carefully measured work. Diligent harvest. Clear, sharpen. Grace.
