On New year\'s day, inside, I’m no more churning
as I recall those years of youthful yearning
when I lay lost in life of loveless learning
with books, I’d bought, fit only now for burning.
On New year\'s day, my mind’s no longer reeling,
confused about lost love I’d been concealing.
The hurt, I’d held, has ended up in healing,
to leave alone my first love’s sweetest feeling.
On New year\'s day, my mind, (made up for ages)
against the dying light no longer rages.
The grimy guilt my callous conscience cages
I’ve purged, by poet’s pen, on poet’s pages.
On New year\'s day, inside, my soul is singing,
despite the drawing near of death knell ringing.
For faith forced out the fear that kept me cringing;
it\'s flown away, upon the west wind, winging!