Tuesday, January 1, 2019

The First Day of the New Year/imaginary gardens with real toads

The First Day of the New Year

Here I stand on the threshold
Of becoming
The me I am
The me I will be

A new year begins
With hope and expectation
I hold out my hand to you
Dark silhouettes of birds

Fly with the white flakes
An aerial dance/visibility low
I bend with the wind
That howled all night

On this morning
All is quiet
Only the silence of the snowflake
As it glides to the ground

Joining others of its kind
To form a fluffy white blanket
Of transformation
…The New Year begins

January 1, 2019

“There is no place so awake and alive as the edge of becoming.” 
- Sue Monk Kidd, The Dance of the Dissident Daughter

4 comments:

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Oh how I love that closing!💞 Exquisite write, Annell 😊

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Very beautiful. I can hear the silence, and watch that single snowflake fall.

Kim Russell said...

Thank you for the snowflakes, Annell! We haven’t had any of our own yet. I’m not a lover of snow, due to a traumatic event when I was a child, but I’m happy to appreciate its beauty from the safety of my window. With your poem, I can appreciate it in my head. I love the silhouettes of birds that ‘Fly with the white flakes / An aerial dance’ and the way you zoom into the silent snowflake gliding to the ground. Happy New Year!

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is a wonderful mood piece, Annell. Silence speaks in its own way, of things that have been and are to come.

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