The Gregorian Chart Poem by Christopher Soto

As pages turn on the gregorian chart,
twelve stages pass us by.

Four smaller construct each of these 12,
in these divisions mankind comfortably dwells.

Marked by myth, time was split into two,
now the numbers we know grow many and grow new.

Forward only and looking back, these abstract ideas, non-physical, keep us stuck.

Celebration ensured to mark the end of a phase,
though time still passes regardless of what we do and say.

It is custom to hug and burn the sky,
to appreciate one year more we did not die.

laugh and dance to systematic sound,
cry and smile with family around.
Share a moment holding hands,
host a dinner with all close friends.
Take a walk to the waters edge,
gaze at stars burning viciously, some dead!
Make a phone call round the world,
eagerly wait for the clock to mark 12.
Turn the page of the Gregorian chart,
why not even make a whole fresh start.
you're only bound by abstract though,
you make the future, it's non existent, it's all yours.