Holding on to what is real, rather than elusion,
Alluding to my narrow, if noble, perspective;
Presenting a pattern of objective confusion,
Perhaps it really is time for new directive.
Yearning for a moment frozen in time and space,
Never taking into account, potential consequence;
Each dawn has its day, then vanishes without a trace.
While I know it was there, I haven't seen it since,
You took it, laying rightful claim to what you own.
Eventually, life lines fade and become thread bare,
All too apparent when I look to find you are gone;
Reminders, like clues, are strewn about, everywhere.
Reckoning is a task I find altogether foreboding.
Of all advances taken, two steps forward and wait;
Seeing the final vestiges colliding, imploding,
Every step taken leads one to this certain fate.
For all I imagine, and that which I know to be true,
Running in place, from past, is all that makes sense.
Obstacles only impede if I choose to allow them to,
Much to my benefit, at present, I am easy to convince.
Moving forward requires us all to turn and gaze back,
Yet this lesson must be reminded, and learned again;
Keeping with the ancient order, staying on track,
Even a final dawn has its day to claim. What then?
Michael Todd (2013)
Disclaimer: If I have ever written a poem about the turning of a page on a calendar, as a new year commences, I don't recall. Maybe I am running out of things to write about. Possibly, I just overlooked the topic. Or maybe, a part of me hates to put the old year to rest, at best, passed and gone. Just call me sentimental.
While I adore the concept of a happy new year, and wish that, sincerely, for any and everyone I know... there are few things that make me happy. But, the upside to that is that what does make me happy has a great impact. And, more importantly, who can make me happy can do so with minimal effort. I do not require a detailed directive. Just point me in the right direction. That is all I need.