New year
A quiet clock inhales the night,
Twelve breaths held, then set to fly.
Old worries loosen their tight grip,
Like leaves that finally say goodbye.
The year ahead stands, clean and wide,
A page still warm from winter’s hand.
With hopeful ink and steady heart,
We write our dreams the best we can.
Not all will bloom, not all will stay,
Some plans will bend, some fears return.
But still we rise with softer strength,
Wiser from the fires we’ve burned.
So here’s to mornings yet unknown,
To courage learned, to love renewed.
The New Year comes—not loud, but kind,
And asks us only: be, and move.
