Naomi Shihab Nye: Burning The Old Year
The year 2015 sits on a very special in me. It is the year when I found myself without yet full. In every sense of the word.Emptiness had been a constant companion. The first kind of empty was a personal loss that I learned so much from. The first kind of empty helped in getting me started with the many milestones that made the previous year magical. At first there was anguish for the feeling of being emptied out but after a while there is gratitude. Tremendous gratitude for the emptiness where I found what now fills my heart with a sense of quiet contentment and certainty.It was the year when I worked on my physical well-being and surprised myself of the deep reserves of self-control that I never knew I had. I took my time chewing and appreciating how the individual components of a dish came together and was mindful of what my stomach was telling me. For the first time I stopped when I felt full.Even as 2015 started out dim with what seemed like one loss after another; in the end it was glorious. With open arms, I welcome what 2016 brings while clutching tightly those that matter.Burning the Old YearNaomi Shihab NyeLetters swallow themselves in seconds.Notes friends tied to the doorknob,transparent scarlet paper,sizzle like moth wings,marry the air.So much of any year is flammable,lists of vegetables, partial poems.Orange swirling flame of days,so little is a stone.Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.I begin again with the smallest numbers.Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,only the things I didn’t docrackle after the blazing dies.
Poem Source: Poetry Foundation