I. Resolutions
Sometimes I wonder about
the cost of being human.
I wonder if I made a
covenant with a divine
being I have since forgotten
to pay on this ride; I
wonder if I
am pulling my weight.
I
could make a resolution.
Everyone
could make a resolution.
We
could all make resolutions like I will:
lose 20 pounds and eat more
vegetables
or give to charity and volunteer for the homelessanimalshelterfoodpantry
or beabetterperson who doesbetterthings and thinksbetterthoughts.
It
would not be wrong and many will do it.
I
could make a resolution.
Promise is a synonym for resolution.
As are
oath / pledge / purpose --
this
is no small matter in a world of the
uncompromising
splendor and
terror
we
live,
enable, unmask.
A synonym for resolute is stubborn.
So are
determined / unwavering / definite --
there
is power in this,
the
living, the marching rising lifting hearing speaking yelling falling and
rising
again.
I do not love the
coming of the year.
When more in me feels
old than new and
change hangs like a pendulum
swinging without
gravity or physics,
resolutions surround that
may/not be of consequence
and the weight of the
unresolved shifts like earth
quake: break me open. Make me
thunderous and messy in
my
shaking, challenge me
to be dis-
comforted, up-rooted
and
growing. Unquiet my heart and light a
fire to burn my too
soft edges -- the world is precious and I am
stubborn.
Let me learn to pay the
cost of being human in
raw, determined love:
this promise is one I must
continually learn
to keep.
II. Revelations
New Year "beginning again" is not my
target: growth is too
hard
won to aim for beginning
anew, roll that clock
onward, I am standing
under the dripping
faucet of faith,
waiting for
no one: I am my own
Godot. And aren't I
dangerous? Aren't I a
woman to be
feared as I dare
revelations of my own
worth?
III. Revolutions
In astronomy, natural objects
in space are
heavenly bodies.
Although no one says
it,
we celebrate the New
Year because our
heavenly body completed
one
full cycle around
another heavenly
body and those cycles
are
revolutions.
Quiet, unassuming amid
our
fireworks and ball
drops, the
heavenly body heaves
herself to home plate
without a sigh of
derision, the
gravity of this
revolutionary
love literally holding
us all
here, we
human bodies crack
under both weight and
weightlessness, we know
revolution
is the key for our
survival
revolution
is making it home when they tried to end you
revolution
is holding it all in love, and anger, and fear,
revolution
is holding it all in love, and anger, and fear,
revolution
is the will to keep your
heavenly body
cycling.
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