There is a feeling of spring, of little seed of hope scattered in hearts.
It’s arbitrary. Someone decided ‘this is it. This is where it begins.’
There is a hope, a hanging a fleeting resolve. A firm resolve. A second chance.
Why wait to make change?
What time is better than now?
But why now? What is special about now?
There is confusion. I remember that confusion is the state that brings about change.
There will be rhythm. There will be eggs broken on the roadside. Dishes will stay overnight – they will be washed with reluctance.
There will be disappointment.
There is joy. Milestones. First steps will be made.
“When does the present begin?”
There is anticipation.
There is fear
There is apathy. There is writing.
On a lonely beach the moon pulls the ocean closer to a bottle of beer. Toes are tickled by sand. There is newness, there is sameness.
There is life.
There will be life.