"The Old Year has gone. Let the dead past bury its own dead.
The New Year has taken possession of the clock of time. All hail the duties and
possibilities of the coming twelve months!"
-- Edward Payson Powell
Done, and done, and done.
I refuse to allow 2009 to poison my life anymore.
I guess, there's always overlap, and loose ends.
Christmas is put away. I have my piano out, and it makes me happy to look at.
My loose ends are tied up, or perhaps my nooses are snipped.
And I have a collar (however conditional, living in the playfully serious land of now) and a hand to hold.
I have confirmation on the surgery, if not the date.
I have a star to follow in the short term, adventures planned, quests to achieve.
I don't accept that I wasn't good enough.
I don't accept that who I am is flawed, just the shadows that cover me.
It is wonderful that I like to think.
It is beautiful that I love words and using them.
It is amusing that I'm a storyteller.
I am not a whore, but I am sensual.
I am not a child, but I am exuberant and easily amused.
It is not necessary for me to scream to be seen.
I don't need to be silent to be tolerated.
But silence isn't the enemy either.
It is safe to dream now.
I found my wings again, after too many mistakes, and I can fly.
She is small, but she is mighty.
Earth for dame, sun for sire,
Rise from candle to a fire-
With sky of blue and green of grass,
A land of dreams from shattered glass-
Thy people now no longer roam,
We reclaim our broken home-
Bring thee from the dark impasse,
Free the land of shattered glass- |