Each December I write a poem reflecting on the dying year and expressing hope for the coming one. Here is the one I wrote this year.
I know I run. Lord, is it wrong to run?
I reach for quiet in the ways I live and feel;
I long for silence in my hands
and softness on my lips.
I can survive like this. I can be whole;
I know I can.
I pursue peace on tortured feet—
Lord, which way should I run?
I reach for light; soft shouldered friends
stand in my way, support my hands
sigh lullabies
beg me to sleep—though pained,
I can survive like this. I can be whole;
I know I can.
A load lifts from my hips today; I run
on jubilating feet.
I saw my Lord today reflected
in the kindness of a friend’s affection
in the brightness of a stranger’s smile.
The snow is coming with its whiteness to
repaint the world like clean. It promises
I can survive through this. I can be whole;
I know I can.
