And so the year grows old, weary with what has been.
It limps along slowly towards that final day, that final hour
when numbers fill the air, glasses clink and voices raise in song.
And so we begin again.
Not all who started are here for our days are numbered not by us.
What do we take with us from old to new?
We know that we are small and that plans may go astray
and yet we dream of bigger things and plan afar.
We think of moments shared, of coffee drunk and secrets told.
A caring touch, the quiet smile that speaks of welcome,
of good news shared and candles lit and blown.
Glasses filled and emptied and tongs that turn meat with care.
Meals sent with love and prayers and plates gratefully returned.
Of time wasted in laughter and nothingness and yet so wisely spent.
The look of one who knows and loves despite,
of tensions cleared and peace restored.
We think of going and then coming home
Of places we know, roads we travel and faces so familiar.
We think of living a small life that is made big by those we share it with.
We rejoice in the love of friends.
We are held in the hand of the one who loves always
and we hold each others hands too.
We have hope and we have love.
We have each other.
And so we begin again,
with eternity in our hearts we begin again.