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by Logan
Rated: E · Poetry · Holiday · #2208576
It's the most wonderful time of the year
New Years Revolutions

Another trip around the sun,
so dizzying the turns
Counting battles lost and won,
we danced as pages burnt

Pages charting narratives,
of loved ones found... friends lost
People slipped, fate's cracks we missed,
we never count the costs

Left alone until too late,
lost in a coward's wake
We take for granted... think they'll wait,
this pattern... this mistake

An error, fear running rife,
as doubt runs up the gauge
Overthinking simple lives,
as subtext slows the page

Subtext lost in pages long,
with eyes too slow to read
Took too long to sing our song,
lost lessons, we don't heed

Procrastination, dwelt upon,
on things that really count
Its difficult to bring it on,
when worries mass and mount

Underneath the northern lights,
magnetic 'tween twin poles
We watch for auras shining bright,
to fill our darkest holes

Before such gazes, souls bloom, thrive,
that's why it scares us so
In such arms, we feel alive,
more than they might know

with innocence washed out to sea,
lost wonder, jaded, old
Reclaiming lost naivety,
for what we've been mis-sold

with new years revolutions done,
fresh orbits hard to find
Time to let solutions run,
solve riddles in our minds

Cryptic, crossed words, outside lines
on schitzophrenic tides
Introverted, boxed confines
'midst extroverted strides

Scant crumbs scattered out to sea,
to last the whole year through,
but those who don't give easily,
... they're generous, when they do

Seeds spent careful on time's winds,
caution, purchased strong
Subtle, light, the drifts rescind,
this sense we dont belong

The sense that we've intruded where...
This sense of worry... doubt
A fear of being included, scared
... A fear of missing out

Yearning hugs on lonely nights,
we passed on... Gods know why?
Why do wrong things feel right?
Why can't all souls fly?

Grounded down with wings of tar,
so decorative they stand
Blackened feathers can't fly far,
whilst weighted to the land

Cast ebony 'gainst fairy lights,
and tinsel weaved through trees
Warding of such darkened nights,
... so early now, they're seized

with candles burning in the dark
tea lights, lit in prayer
Hoping that the paths embarked,
and Gods we choose are fair

and maybe this time mistletoe
might hang, and serve its need
For now, there's just one thing I know,
to which, I have agreed

Next year's orbits will spin right,
regardless how life turns
Rotating audits, day or night?
... a candle's made to burn!

A life is meant to be well lived,
owned... not up for rent
There's nothing earnt when souls are reaved,
with hoarded wax unspent

but sometimes candles burn too fast,
for those, they should not blaze
Oxygen set not to last,
midst phantoms in the haze

Ghosts on different flightpaths, long,
cross hopeful in the night
in aftermaths, an angel's song,
wings stretched in new year's light

so let the flame blaze strong, ignite,
lets burn through next years doubt,
let's leave the lights up longer, bright
... lets keep the darkness out

In such darkness, doubt is sewn,
in shadows, fears grow
In such light, our best is shown
... maybe they should know?

For those at midnight, lost and found,
a new trip has begun
So here's to our next run round,
our next skip round the sun
© Copyright 2019 Logan (stipey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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