We’ll Drink the Cup of Kindness Yet

Woke up contemplating the year gone past
and all that it was.
Thought forward about the year to come,
it’s veiled days drawn up like a curtain.
As the old year exits the stage,
there will be those who call for encore;
there will be those who call for its resignation.
But I find myself curiously anxious,
yet hopeful.
For the past has but merely set the stage for the future,
and all I have is the moment at hand.
And so I gather my fears,
and grasp to hope,
as the lights dim and the curtain shifts.

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