A Threshold Called 2026 Poem by Savva Emanon

The year exhales.
Soft as a tide withdrawing its long breath,
it leaves its salt on our skin,
the ache, the grace, the lessons that still glow
like embers cupped in midnight hands.

We stand between the clocks,
one foot in what has been,
one heart leaning toward what dares to be.
The sky is a deep blue promise,
stitched with questions,
brightened by hope.

Oh 2026,
you arrive without armour,
only a lantern of quiet courage,
asking not for perfection but for presence,
not for speed but for truth.

May you teach us to speak more gently,
to listen as though love itself were listening.
May our failures soften into wisdom,
our triumphs bow into gratitude,
our grief learn the language of light.

Let us plant kindness
where bitterness once grew.
Let us forgive, again, and then again,
until the heart remembers
it was never meant to be a fortress.

In this newborn year,
may laughter return to its rightful home,
may rest be honoured,
may the small, holy moments
be named sacred without apology.

And when the nights feel long,
may we trust the unseen dawn,
knowing that time, like love,
moves forward not to erase us,
but to make us more.

Welcome,2026.
We meet you not as strangers,
but as pilgrims, ready, willing,
and still beautifully becoming.