Winters Song

My face is clouded by the shameless wind.
My head is bowed by the heavy sky.
I make my crooked way unseen and unheard.
My legs are bowed. My feet are splayed.
My bones are brittle. My teeth are all worn.
My breath escapes me through a hole in the world.
My thoughts like quicksilver slip out of my grasp.
My body, bent and distorted by time's embrace,
Stumbles through what's left of my life.
My ears are numb. My vision's blurred.
My passion's spent. My soul inured.
And yet I continue I still go on
For no other reason but to hear winter's song.
The cold clean air that bites at my cheeks
The stark still shadows of a December's Eve.
These plain simple things become so precious and real
Each breath each moment that might be repealed
Each step is my eternity.
Each day my infancy.
~Evelin Cardenas

RECIPE FOR A HAPPY NEW YEAR

Take twelve whole months.
Clean them thoroughly of all bitterness,
hate, and jealousy.
Make them just as fresh and clean as possible.
Now cut each month into twenty-eight, thirty, or
thirty-one different parts,
but don’t make up the whole batch at once.
Prepare it one day at a time out of these ingredients:
Mix well into each day one part of faith,
one part of patience, one part of courage,
and one part of work.
Add to each day one part of hope,
faithfulness, generosity, and kindness.
Blend with one part prayer, one part meditation,
and one good deed.
Season the whole with a dash of good spirits,
a sprinkle of fun, a pinch of play,
and a cupful of good humor.
Pour all of this into a vessel of love.
Cook thoroughly over radiant joy,
garnish with a smile,
and serve with quietness, unselfishness,
and cheerfulness.
You’re bound to have a happy new year.

~ Anon