It’s a New Year
And some things feel old:
A quiet moon,
Laundry on my bed,
Hope in my heart
Feelings in my head.
I want to move the mental
Out—down to my toes.
I want to know the shimmer
Let it grow wings so
My heart can take flight.
I plant what’s past on the edge of my bed
Dream the present into a future I believe.
Night takes hold. Late becomes early.
I ease into now and relieve
Hurt with forgiveness and joy.
I let go of all I know
To open a door that leads to a place
Where life’s promise flows with grace.
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Editor: Bryonie Wise
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