The stage is set
for a new year
of more magic
more music
more memorable moments
more art
more cooking
more baking
more sharing
more gratitude
more reading
more writing
more travel
more beauty
more walking
more listening
more quiet
more prayer
more meditation
more spiritual study
more yoga
more humor
more loving
more sharing
more artichokes
In the spirit of sharing I now want to share a poem I read this morning:
Every morn is the world made new.
You who are weary of sorrow and sinning,
Here is a beautiful hope for you,—
A hope for me and a hope for you.
All the past things are past and over;
The tasks are done and the tears are shed.
Yesterday’s errors let yesterday cover;
Yesterday’s wounds, which smarted and bled,
Are healed with the healing which night has shed.
Yesterday now is a part of forever,
Bound up in a sheaf, which God holds tight,
With glad days, and sad days, and bad days, which never
Shall visit us more with their bloom and their blight,
Their fulness of sunshine or sorrowful night.
Let them go, since we cannot re-live them,
Cannot undo and cannot atone;
God in his mercy receive, forgive them!
Only the new days are our own;
To-day is ours, and to-day alone.
Here are the skies all burnished brightly,
Here is the spent earth all re-born,
Here are the tired limbs springing lightly
To face the sun and to share with the morn
In the chrism of dew and the cool of dawn.
Every day is a fresh beginning;
Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain,
And, spite of old sorrow and older sinning,
And puzzles forecasted and possible pain,
Take heart with the day, and begin again.
By Susan Coolidge, "New Every Morning." Sarah Chauncey Woolsey (January 29, 1835 – April 9, 1905) was an American children's author who wrote under the pen name Susan Coolidge. Short bio here.
Photo taken December 30th at The Academy of Music in Northampton, MA where Susan and I heard “The Berkshire Bach Society present Bach at New Year’s: A very Baroque Celebration.”
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