The earth turns,
the sun arcs east west across the sky,
the clouds blow whither they will,
or so it seems, until the wind
kisses your face with cold
and you remember the power
of what you cannot see.
The moon dances a little in the dark
among the black branches of an oak.
We have swung a full circle
around our feted star once again.
We stand at a not yet
but soon to be turning point in time.
The old year is almost out,
the new year waits to be born,
and we, my friends, are poised to write
the next chapter of our lives.
Happy New Year!