AS THE YEAR DRAWS TO A CLOSE

“Year's end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us.” - Hal Borland

As the year draws to a close, a review of the year that has been is inevitable and most of us will take stock of all that has transpired. Most will find lots to ponder over and to try and rationalise. Some happy moments, some sad, some difficult times, some melancholy ones. Work, leisure, family, friends, foes. The problems we have encountered seem to pale into insignificance if we put the year’s affairs into perspective and compare them to all the years already past.

My poem today reflects these ruminations and as we approach New Year’s Eve, I can be thankful for all that that transpired. The difficulties have cost me some more gray hairs, but I have survived. The happy moments have made it all worthwhile, and these I shall remember. And as the New Year approaches, hope still smiles…

As the Year Draws to a Close

December is on his deathbed, wheezing,
Soon to expire, while in Time’s pregnant belly
Another fetus January stirs and quickens,
Ready to come forth, laughing instead of crying.

The year about to end, a year of difficulties,
With some happy moments – these we shan’t forget –
And our hopes already fixed on that cackling infant
Who promises much with his idiot baby laughter.

Our resolutions, already written (in good faith),
Are biting at the bit, like racehorses
Confined in their boxes before the race start,
Not knowing that most will not finish this course…

And as each year works its way down time’s
Corkscrew spiral, we watch and listen,
Growing older with each turn, and we grow tired,
As each year expires and as each year is born.

And as the lights grow dimmer, as the moon tarnishes,
As the sun loses its brilliance and the blooms their perfume,
We each take a step closer to the grave,
And the world a smaller, poorer, more confining place.

And when we’ve had enough, when all is surfeit,
When nothing seems new, when the enchantment’s lost,
A pale blue butterfly circles our head and rests lightly on our shoulder.
Hope, is ever present, ever alive, ever young;
Ever the one to colour each new year with rainbows,
The one to give us sweetness, the one to play us new songs…

Jacqui BB hosts Poetry Wednesday, visit her blog for more poems!