Oh, what does
the New Year
see in me?
I certainly see myself.
But from where
does it reckon
who am I?
Those liquid, soft eyes,
gazing and impenetrable.
Days set before me.
Alert, watchful
for the slight & clumsy,
the caring and cruel.
We are being measured.
Are we to be trusted?
What does this Great Mind
with all its subtlety
and simplicity,
see in me?
What stirrings in myself
are revealed in its
steady gaze?
What pretense is known?
What fever?
What restlessness?
What hard edge?
Perhaps it is I
who am already
in flight?
From where should I start
to bring a quiet
and peaceful spirit
to our exchange?
Perhaps I should stay longer,
step into this moment,
if only to learn more.