Bemused (Meditations on a New Year) [poem]

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bemused

The New Year looked me gravely (frankly) in the face and said:
“What resolutions have you made as that old year began to fade?”
I took her hand in mine and thought I saw some future light
begin to shine. Perhaps I was mistaken for as I looked into her eyes
she took me on a journey far beyond my skies had ever been before
and if I was to tell you what I saw you would (like me) begin to shake
and thoughts then flickered through my mind that I would never
make it through her year unless some superhuman strength
I’d soonly find. She squeezed my hand and smiled that soft and
drenchful face reserved for those who will wholeheartedly embrace:

her delicate tapestries
fortunate auspices
melodic mysteries
wry serendipities
yet also wholly leave behind every wretched kind of:
worthless history
mindless twisterie
thoughtless brusquerie
things which cannot set one free
while all at the same time feeling regretful for:
acts done ham-fistedly
openings missed by me
false meets at trysting-trees
those kissed resistingly
realness dismissed by me
new paths unrisked by me
good things unhitched by me
itches not scratched by me
dreams pistol-whipped by me
so many hopes unseen.
As she gazed into my eyes and therefore deep into my soul
I sensed her clasp me to herself and as she did a little voice said:
“Are you ready for this ride? This won’t be just like any other tide
in which you’ve flowed before in any of your years or wars.
The sea is deep and rough which I will bring under your boat
and you’ll be smashed on many rocks although you always and
in every way will joyly stay afloat. Indeed I’ve seen your future
shining face above the waves bemused by buffet’s perverse ways!
You know this is for your own good” — at which I kissed her fresh new
skin while breathlessly she drew me deep within and we were one.

© Alan Morrison, 2015

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