There is no New Year! [sonnet]
There is no such thing as the first of Jan.
It’s all a Gregorian trick, you see;
a pope fooled with time arbitrarily
and that’s how your Happy New Year began.
The human tendency to celebrate
ensures that we clutch at meaningless straws;
this day (as delusive as Santa Klaus)
with frolic and glut we adulterate.
If only the cycle of endless time
was glimpsed with the blink of an eye unproud
and solely to secrets our hearts we vowed —
those days, months and years — the old paradigm.
When we will learn to look at life askew
then every single day we’d see as New!
© 2011, Alan Morrison
The Naked Troubadour 