Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come,
whispering 'it will be happier'
~ Alfred, Lord Tennyson* [1809-1892]
For last year's words belong to last year's language
whispering 'it will be happier'
~ Alfred, Lord Tennyson* [1809-1892]
For last year's words belong to last year's language
and next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
~ T.S. Eliot* [1888-1965]
Each midnight is like another: we approach, we cross over - awake or not - the day and date change, we move forward in time. The new day will dawn and will bring every possible outcome from joy to fear to monotony to sorrow, to every kind of weather; an ending of one and the beginning of another.
Hope beckons us to cross the threshold of a year consciously, if only briefly, to be here now and to let go of then, to accept the changes and chances that occur and to adjust our sails to the winds and tides. That small whisper of happier can help us to find our next year's words and voice, if we let it.
Creator of the Dawn and Dark,
Help me, again and still, to remember to seek You in the Light as well as in the Dark, when alone and in the midst of many, and to be grateful for each and every moment of this year that is passing ~ the good, the bad, the ugly, the tears of happiness and sadness, and the lessons learned from each. Most of all, let me feel Your presence in every breath and every step as each day ahead moves into the next. I want to promise not to fall from or fail You, but knowing myself as I do, I will resolve to do the best I can with all that comes my way. And when that page turns, the dawn breaks through, or the alarm clock jolts me into waking, I will work at remembering that You are with me, welcoming me, beckoning me into the promise of another day of life. Let me live my life well, in this New Year, mindfully in Your service, and especially for those who would wish to live fully but can no longer. amen.
*Alfred, Lord Tennyson, was poet Laureate of Great Britain and Ireland during Queen Victoria's reign. One of his most cherished works is the historical poem about "The Charge of the Light Brigade" with the famous lines: Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do or die. Into the Valley of Death rode the six hundred."
*T.S. Eliot was born in St. Louis, Missouri but ultimately emigrated to England becoming a citizen. A graduate of Harvard and of Merton College, Oxford, he later taught English at the University of London and won the 1948 Nobel Prize for Literature. Many of his poems are very well known, especially his "Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock."
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