Poem for the Fourth of January
Four days ago
you resolved to begin again;
and you did.
But so far today has been
difficult.
Don’t worry.
Here is a secret that may help.
The trees do not know
that the new year has begun.
Neither does the mountain.
The stones keep their own deep time.
The first of January means little to the stars.
And even though the Moon and Sun offer us the service of marking the days,
the months, the years; they
are not foolish enough to count them.
So you see to begin or not
is your choice in every moment.
The river will continue its journey to the sea whether you plunge in or not.
For today perhaps it is simply
necessary for you to sit beside it a while
listening to its song of presence,
just knowing it is always ready for you
when you are ready to dive in again.
Let the cosmos teach you.
Before and after are always out of reach.
The calendar page is always falling away.
But every moment bears within it
the possibility of a new year, of a new life,
of a new you.
For every moment arises from Divine mind and heart, containing within
the breathing of the Dove,
the fiery heart,
the origin of all.
the very ordering of creation
the healing of all we find broken,
lost or yearning within.
So hear the call of the moment,
be open as the flower who,
not knowing nor asking
the time of her coming or going,
breathes deep and
simply blooms.
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