New Year’s eve

  New Year’s Eve


                                 You can mold clay into a vessel;
                   yet, it is its emptiness that makes it useful.
                                          ~Lao Tzu, Tao De Ching

  
 Already, dawn breaks earlier
 day lengthens, quickening to light 
 as sun pulls in her tether,
 calling Earth home to hearth 
 like some busy mother, whose child 
 strays too far into the dark.
  
 Time has come
 to shatter this vessel,
 molded from soul clay
 shaped by desire, fired 
 in will, packed base to brim
 with joy, grief, fear and anger.
  
 The pot fills my hands.
 I weigh its heft,
 trace intricate designs
 engraved upon the surface.
 All year, potential usefulness 
 diminished, as day by day
 what once was empty, filled 
  
 Now, it serves no longer
 as a bowl for what might be
 and only holds in stasis
 what once was or is.
  
 Time to take glee 
 in the shattering finale ; 
 shout, scream, belly laugh, 
 and wipe away my tears. 
  
 Tomorrow, I’ll gather shards, 
 grind them to dust, mix them to mud,
 begin anew to mold and shape 
 new emptiness for every possibilities
 the coming year will issue. 

  
                               ©2014 Christine Irving 
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