The old year disappears suddenly,
Like night shadows caught unawares
by sunlight.
Twelve old shadows, each with a tale to tell,
Stories of long forgotten resolutions,
Plans changed by unforeseen events,
Sweet unexpected hellos,
Painful unexpected goodbyes.
The New Year dawns and bids farewell to
the old shadows.
Twelve new ones gather to select
new seeds for planting.
Some will take root and yield
low hanging fruit.
Some will be scattered by the wind and
land on barren, parched ground.
Others will take flight with birds
to flourish in far away lands.
Seeds for peace, justice, healing,
abundance, dreams, desires,
planted in fertile soil.
Tended with care, patience, devotion.
Growing with the flow of time.
Waiting for the season of reaping.
Maybe before the twelve new shadows grow old.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem