New Year Shrouded in Fog

To begin with an expression: a bolder move perhaps

Than the years that have recently passed

There was a time when I greeted the new year

with a magic word I once heard in a book: shirak

In my mind's eye then, the year’s dawn lifted itself mightily

Above the horizon of possibility,

Lit by my hopes and certainties.

Now, as another brother of that season greets me

From beyond my perception, I eye him suspiciously;

Each anthem on television, each shout of exhilaration,

Each resolution, each restitution, each revolution,

Each new year’s solution…

The jade of poorly hatched past plans edges into my vision,

And yet…

Tonight, outside my window, fog crowds the street, blocking out buildings,

Billowing between me and future unsure

And somehow, that comforts me.

Anything can happen. I remember Basho:

Perhaps in the mirror tomorrow, I will see a new man.

-JS 1/1/12