With each new year
we celebrate and cheer.
Orange swirls, red dots,
light up the dark
but what is it for?
Another year that is over
or a new one about to begin?
Do we celebrate in hope or in fear?
As we sit atop the cliff of a year
we see a sheer
and below an unseen ocean that smiles with a leer
for beneath, sharp rocks may lurk or a tide unforgiving
preparing to smash us, pummelled to the sandy floor.
But when the morning breaks,
the drop may not be so tall
and with curiosity we may fall
into a still blue that may call
us in to its depths, ready to explore.
Rocketing to the sky, colours explode
into a million impermanent stars
lighting up the dark for brief, beautiful moments.
Gasps pour from the onlookers, their chins dropped, mouths wide.
5, 4, 3 ...
The ball drops in New York, the Eye explodes in London,
The Opera House in Australia, the World falls and explodes
... 2, 1
Is this a beginning or an ending?
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