Another round
The Earth leans forward,
slow and certain,
into another circle around the sun.
A quiet turning,
a soft beginning
wrapped in the same old light
but somehow new.
I stand here with it
tired, hopeful,
hands still warm from everything I carried
through the last long year.
And I whisper to the sky
that maybe this time
the pieces will fit differently.
That the longstanding knots of life
will loosen on their own,
that broken words
will find their way back into meaning,
that the spark I lost somewhere
along the way
will blink awake again.
I hope this new orbit
will make the heavy things lighter,
that the hurts will fade like shadows at dusk,
that what once felt impossible
will quietly begin to heal.
Another round.
Another chance.
The same sun
but a different journey,
and maybe, if the universe is kind,
a better one.
slow and certain,
into another circle around the sun.
A quiet turning,
a soft beginning
wrapped in the same old light
but somehow new.
I stand here with it
tired, hopeful,
hands still warm from everything I carried
through the last long year.
And I whisper to the sky
that maybe this time
the pieces will fit differently.
That the longstanding knots of life
will loosen on their own,
that broken words
will find their way back into meaning,
that the spark I lost somewhere
along the way
will blink awake again.
I hope this new orbit
will make the heavy things lighter,
that the hurts will fade like shadows at dusk,
that what once felt impossible
will quietly begin to heal.
Another round.
Another chance.
The same sun
but a different journey,
and maybe, if the universe is kind,
a better one.



