Site icon Author D.L. Finn

Reflections in a new year and a poem

mushroom

This is my first 2020 reflection post on what the new year might bring. Last year I was hopeful going into 2019. It was to be the year of me being a leader, but it led me instead. 2020 came in more quietly, and I was cautious seeing what it might bring. Instead of leading it’s the year of landing on my feet — good thing I’ve had some practice sticking those landings. Then things started breaking around me, like a two-year-old stove that’s been deemed unfixable and not under warranty, the washing machine sits waiting for a repair that may or may not be under warranty (a definite pattern so far) and my car in the shop are a few examples.

So, all I could do is use my griddle, do laundry at my daughter’s house, and I enjoy being housebound for now. It’s the little stuff, I know, but for some reason, it felt heavy this time. Things breaking were weighing me down as I talked about getting rid of household clutter. Maybe I needed to be more specific on what I wanted to rid myself of, but I do know that I’d rather it be things breaking other than people.

So, I took this as a time to regroup. What I realized was we can survive anything if we do it together. This doesn’t seem to be a common theme lately in families, the workplace, or society. We don’t seem to be in this wonderful life together; it seems like we are at war with each other—even ourselves. I will be trying to figure out how to bridge this idea of togetherness as I let go of things I no longer need. It will be an interesting year and decade, but I have faith we can work through our problems together and clutter-free.

My end of the year poetry reflects my going into a new decade with no resolutions only hope. 

ROAD

2019 was to be the year of the leader

A shining star surging into existence

Instead, the year led me shivering down a dark road

Alone, I hastened my stride on the solid surface

Squinting into the darkness, I scanned for light

There was none, so I kept walking

Hoping my flashlight wouldn’t fail me

With its narrow beam of light urging me forward

Scared that I couldn’t see where I was going

I cautiously made my way into the night

Breathlessly I reached the top of a peak

Where I was greeted with a distant glow.

Forward I treaded to iridescent hope

At the edge of darkness.

The road was suddenly bathed in light

Now I could see I wasn’t alone

Others were in the distance on their roads

I wondered if they were making the same journey

I glanced back at the road I had traveled

But it had merged into the darkness

I shrugged and pushed on into the new year

Guided by only what could-be

Leaving what-was where it belonged.


Maybe authors can share our example of helping one another with the rest of the world. 😊 Embrace that inner child with a good book! D. L. Finn

Exit mobile version