Sunrise
The old year hobbles to a close
like a wrinkled, wise old crone
with a pocketful of secrets.
When the new year dawns,
as fresh and pink as a young maiden,
the crone will hand her those secrets
and point a gnarled finger
down the Path of Tomorrow.
Her head is heavy with remembering,
her ears full of the cries of wild creatures,
singing songs of lost habitat,
and floods, and fire.
But wait! Through the forest comes a message
from a young dreamer who sees with eyes of truth:
"Change is coming,
whether you like it or not."
(Yes, whether by legislation or cataclysm,
Change will come.
And the young, brave-hearted, are rising.)
The old year passes wearily into the new,
which straightens its shoulders
in readiness to face
whatever comes.
Trees and waves and shore
eternally sing their songs of beauty,
of hope, of Tomorrow.
The Crone of 2019 feels her heart lift
in response. She takes up her drum
and begins to sing.
for Susan's prompt at Midweek Motif: Year's End.
Certainly when we can pass on our load, we can lift up the drum and sing. This is a beautiful song, an amazing interpretation of the earfuls of disorientation. Sing loud, dear Sherry! I also read this poem as an allegory of a poetry blog, though i am not sure which one. Beat the drum loudly so the new year will hear.
ReplyDeleteYou are right on, Sherry. Been seeing lots of Canadians this week, we all have a lot in common though now until our change you are better off.
ReplyDeleteThanks for peeking at my write for the Toads, I wrote it too sitting on the edge of the bed "after midnight "
..
Thank you for this wonderfully positive note, which also rings true. I particularly love that final image! (Joining you in picking up my drum again.)
ReplyDeleteSherrry,
ReplyDeleteIndeed the old crone must be very nervous to hand over anything to the young New Year when it arrives. What a year of depressing destruction of the earth by a lawless band of world rulers, who seem to disregard all warnings and advice about impending areas of worry and irreparable damage..
I pray that some new voice of sense might emerge to save our dear planet...
Ah, to me the young dreamer seems like Greta!! It is nice having a youngster leading the world. I am listening for all those songs of beauty. They must be somewhere....if only we listen carefully. Merry Christmas, Sherry!
ReplyDeleteI would vote for Greta for President or Prime Minister right now. Smiles. My frustration lies with those to whom power and money mean more than serving the people they were elected to represent. Argh. I am hard pressed to find positive words, but with a new year coming, we must try for a note of hope.
ReplyDeleteThe future of the world belongs to dreamers who aren't afraid to step up and speak. Change is upon us and we need people to get out and vote for change our planet and democracy depends on it.
ReplyDeleteIt's so wonderful to see the old year gets to see the rising of the future stars. May this hearty and positive note drown all that is unworthy of our mother earth. A beauty of a poem.
ReplyDeleteThere are so many precious images hete but i think the one i like best is the direction arrow, that "gnarled finger"
ReplyDeleteThank you for dropping by to read mine
Much✏love
Yes it was a good year to prove to the people that Climate change was a reality but not a good one for governments and industrials as they had their noses rubbed in the ground. The population is becoming aware thank goodness.
ReplyDelete❤️
ReplyDeleteA wonderful personification of the old and new years- an ethereal vision here.
ReplyDeleteLet's keep beating that drum of hope.
ReplyDeleteSuch a positive poem!
ReplyDeleteLet's embrace the change & sing along!
Happy New Year!
It's Year End - Anita