The Old Year Runs Away From Me ~by Joyce Rupp
The old year runs away from me.
I hang onto her sleeve
But she shakes me loose.
Where does the old year go
When the new year comes?
She slips away into memories,
Falls into the crevices of wishes
And ought-to-have-dones.
She waits no longer upon promises,
Turns her back on might-have-been.
The elves of the old year step in,
Pack up the struggles, store the joys,
Tuck them away in the bulging box
Spreading out on the psyche’s floor.
It’s up to the new year now.
I bring a lot to her domain:
Expectations, dreams, hopes,
And I place them all before
Her strong, abundant door.
I walk into her untamed territory,
With meek apprehension
And a vast sense of mystery.
Assured by the welcome I receive,
Anxious about what is waiting
Behind the drawn window shade,
Curious about what I will discover
In the hidden folds of her new days.
… as we enter into the new year may we pause and reflect on how precious life is with the awareness that it is always going. The most treasured gift we can give or receive are small gestures of thoughtfulness offered in the spirit of love and friendship.
The gifts of the heart are indeed those long remembered and the ones that we carry within to sustain us in challenging times.
Within these pages we have discovered one another and cultivated a community that nurtures and celebrates our diverse journeys. We have travelled together and in doing so helped each other to stretch and grow.
May the Love that connects us all provide comfort and peace, no matter how near or far our roads may take us.
Contributed by Liz Sorensen Wessel
Photo by my lovely neice, Lisa Gayle
Journal of Sacred Work 
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