there was so much juice on that word
as I traveled around the sun these past twelve months
and opened up to fresh skies and some new ways
and began carving a bright new groove,
even if it was slow going
and isn’t half done.
But there was this enormous grace in the carving
and even as Fall turned into Winter
and circumstances seemed to mock my hope,
and this tender heart of mine got broken up pretty badly
I found that, still, my banged up joy is stronger than despair
and the bells keep playing anyway.
And I’ve been listening for a new word to ring clear
and quiet in the heartache
it snuggled near
like a big wet kiss
from my lab’s warm nose
and it feels like a firm guiding hand on my back,
this little word,
as I head into the nexts
because I want so much to squeeze more juice from my pens,
my camera, my choices, my days.
My little word for the year: anyway.
(Brave, beautiful beginnings to you, too, friend,
with plump shiny hope that whatever your deepest heart is longing to do,
you go and do it, anyway)