The new year comes to us,
ready yet or not.

While we may prefer to burrow deep
into the old.

The new year comes,

with untold stories to unfold.
And dreams that might bear fruit,
if we’re bold.

To open the door

to infinite possibility.

To recall

what a blank canvas can reveal.

What a pen, that meets an empty page,

can unveil.

What a life fully assured of it future,

can rightly claim.

Gold.


Like the sun rising, the new year comes.

Reminding us,
that life renews itself, like all things.

The old is gone,

until there is no ground upon which to hide.

And we burrow out like cicadas into the light.


And sing with newly opened eyes.


Ana Lisa de Jong


Living Tree Poetry

1 January 2016
Happy new year!