It is my custom to have a time of meditation and read at least one piece of poetry daily. Then to make the bed and straighten the bathroom and towels. Little rituals that help me to set the tone of the day.
At the day’s end, I try to be sure the dishes are washed, the sink empty and everything is “in its place”.
It doesn’t always happen, but it is a ritual I try to keep.
My poetry comes daily from the Poetry Foundation and then from Robert Okaji at O at the Edges. His offering for New Year’s was a very rich piece entitled Year’s End – you can follow the link to read his piece.
Today I received the daily offering from the Poetry Foundation and it, too was a wonderful offering by Naomi Shihab Nye. I offer it here for your review.
~The Prison Librarian
Burning the Old Year
BY NAOMI SHIHAB NYE
Letters swallow themselves in seconds.
Notes friends tied to the doorknob,
transparent scarlet paper,
sizzle like moth wings,
marry the air.
So much of any year is flammable,
lists of vegetables, partial poems.
Orange swirling flame of days,
so little is a stone.
Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,
an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.
I begin again with the smallest numbers.
Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,
only the things I didn’t do
crackle after the blazing dies.