a collection of lovely New Year's poems written by Nicholas Gordon
who so generously allows free use of his poems. If you like these
poems, you can visit Mr. Gordon's website at http://www.poemsforfree.com/index.html
for a thousand more on all topics. Enjoy!
Depends on More Than Years
depends on more than years.
All one's moments gather to a wave
Passing in a rolling swell of tears,
Passions too immense to name or save.
Yet New Year's is a crest on which to sing,
Now poised between the future and the past.
Each awaits what course the fates may bring,
Winds that never touch the things that last.
Years turn and turn with an hypnotic grace
Even as the depths of life lie still.
Although above one cannot silence face,
Remember that below the divers will.
Often Rented by the Year
Hope is often
rented by the year.
A ceremony helps ensure the signing.
People like transitions to be clear,
Preferably at moments when they're dining.
Yet as a rental flat can be a home,
No one wants to terminate this lease.
Each thinks hope too poor a risk to own
While needing its bright arc for inner peace.
Years therefore start with hope again renewed
Even as the old year's wishes die.
After all the books have been reviewed,
Ring in the New Year!--with a gentle sigh.
No More or Less Than Years
no more or less than years.
A moment is a point with no dimension.
People count to undermine their fears,
Persuaded numbers lead to comprehension.
Yet time is an illusion of our motion,
No realer than the rising of the sun.
Each line we draw rests on a restless ocean,
Way, way beyond the scope of more than One.
Years do not begin and never end
Except for purposes of calibration.
A need to share our yearnings, friend to friend,
Requires just one point of celebration.
Beautiful the Turning of the Year
beautiful the turning of the year!
A moment artificial yet profound:
Point upon an arbitrary chart
Passing like a breath upon the heart,
Yearning with anticipation wound,
New hope harbored in old-fashioned cheer.
Even when the boundary line is clear,
We recognize the oneness of the ground.
Years, like circles, do not end or start
Except we lay across their truth our art,
Adjusting dates as they go round and round
Revolving to a tune long sung and dear.
the Year Just Passed
How sad, the
year just passed! A year the past
Arose like smoke from deep beneath the rubble,
Pouring up through fissures in the heart,
Perhaps our own as much as those of others.
Year of hatred writhing in raw pain,
Near mad with certainty arrayed in faith,
Each aggrieved alight with righteous anger,
Whirlwinds swirling through their swathes of rage.
Yet let us in the new year look for justice,
Ever the rock on which to live in peace,
Administered with love for every soul,
Regarding every evil as our own.
is a Purely Human Thing
is a purely human thing
In which a day, a year, a century,
Leaves behind its bloodstained legacy,
Looking to what good the next might bring.
Each of us, this new millennium,
Near midnight will begin to feel the awe,
New wondering what this universe is for,
Immersed in what has been and is to come.
Under midnight's gaze something will end
More beautiful than we can comprehend.
are Fairly Common Things
are fairly common things:
In a billion years are quite a few.
Long or short, their roundness pleasure brings:
Life needs some pretext to begin anew.
Each millennium's a fresh, blank page:
No future ever stretched so fair and far.
Now we wait upon the empty stage
In hopes we'll catch a glimpse of who we are.
Underneath is something vast and free:
Millennia are chains across a sea.
Year's Falls Just at the Darkest Hours
Year's falls just at the darkest hours,
Even as the sun lies sick and dying.
When the darkness turns hope starts anew,
Year by year a lesson ever true,
Each of us the bitter cold defying.
All my life I want to be with you,
Restoring year by new year what is ours.