The Empty Box
An Ode to the New Year
One more twig in the branch of time…
But will it grow leaves this coming spring?
Bear bright flowers by summer’s dawn,
And fruits, as birds in early autumn sing?
Aye! Another year, perhaps of struggle
But hope in our hearts fervently burning
That the twig remains not in winter cold
Rather have young buds gently murmuring!
Like a holiday gift, wrapped beautifully
In bright crimson and green; with ribbon gold
The New Year entices, tempts us to unwrap it
See what’s inside; its treasures to behold!
If stars align, maybe we find what we seek,
Good fortune and blessings a hundredfold!
Alas! The gift could be empty, worthless glitter
Inside the box! No warmth just bitter cold!
Yet we must go on! Onward into the future
In anticipation of the good that may come!
Always hopeful; ever vigilant of an empty box,
And the dangers we need to dash away from!
01-06-2017
©Vic A Evora
My first poem of the new year. As always, I have resolutions I want to keep for as long as I could. And I look forward to a great year, hoping the box is not empty and the twig bears fruit...
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