A New Year

On waking in the morn
The year will have gone
The months, weeks
days hours,
minutes, seconds.
Counted down,
lived through ,
will simply begin again.

A clean slate
On which to create
a new measure
which leaves behind
the loss, pain,
guilt, grief of us.

Containing just me
there will be
hope, joy, serenity.
These phoenixites
will rain down
washing away the old measures,
bringing wondrous treasures
In the morn.