It came upon a chill December eve,
so quietly that folks could not quite believe.
Then the tide rolled in, kissing the shore,
as if it wanted so very much more.

The sands of time are e’er relentless,
marking moments both epic and senseless.
Battering the beach, the waves persisted,
roughly as if they had gently kissed it.

This marriage of nature to the forces
exerting pressure on the sources
of life extant is neither here nor there.
At least, that is, the clouds don’t care.

Here, I believe, is the cogent thing,
ere the clock strikes twelve and people sing.
Tis the instant when life comes upon
The thrill of the season and then moves on.

Therefore, we join together to celebrate
the importance of this auspicious date.
The new year is here, and the crowd rejoices,
singing its praises with a thousand voices.

Carol Anderson
31 December 2009