January 2, 2025

The Fool Begins the New Year

Match-struck, fire-heart,
    this is an offering
of flame to new gods,
    slowly fashioned,
    called from all corners,
summoned
    with deft hands
and above all, mirth—
    this is the beginning
of what’s new, what’s holy,
           a reminder 
    that hands are meant to be held,
        but you have to reach,
    that hearts are meant to be shared,
        but you have to open,
    that love is not demanding
    or unkind,
        but soft,
the rough velvet
    of a new day, settled
    into the motion of a kiss—

hope
    is not gentle,
    or neat,
    or miraculous,
but a force of nature,
    the Fool poised before a fall,
    a pivot into something new,
        something beautiful,
something that could be beautiful,

    you just need to open your hand,
    you just need to step toward
        at an easy pace,
    you just need to find new notes
in an old song, and remember
    this story
is constantly changing,
        and that’s beautiful too.

Let the past be water,
    always shifting into sky,
let the past be fire,
    always thawing the dark,
let the past be earth,
    always steady in its roots,
let the past be air,
    always moving—

begin as you mean
    to go,
without fear,
without the rubble,
    without armor
as a cage,
    just trust
that every star
has sung you into purpose,
heart-light,
    guiding you
right here,
right now—

close your eyes
    and leap,
build your wings
out of dreams
    on the way down,
bone by bone,
    feather by feather,

this is what it means
    to be brave enough
to start
again.