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Morning Open Thread: Hope Smiles from the Threshold of 2019

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Hogmanay in Scotland

Welcome to Morning Open Thread

This is a daily post with a MOTley crew of hosts who choose the topic for the day's posting. We support our community, invite and share ideas, and encourage thoughtful, respectful dialogue in an open forum.

This author, who is on Pacific Coast Time, may sometimes show up later than when the post is published. That is a feature, not a bug. Other than that, site rulz rule.


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So grab your cuppa, and join in!



“And now let us believe in a long year that is given to us, new, untouched, full of things that have never been, full of work that has never been done, full of tasks, claims and demands; and let us see that we learn to take it without letting fall too much of what it is to bestow upon those who demand of it necessary, serious and great things.”

– from a letter by Rainer Maria Rilke to his wife Clara in January, 1907


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‘Hard Frost’ by Vitiaco

2018 has been a hard year, an unending winter. Watching the Republicans do their worst to dismantle the American Republic; seeing the effects of human indifference and denial to the climate changes which we have brought on ourselves and the rest of Earth’s inhabitants; and for me personally, the continual slow creep of aging, so far blessedly more in body than in mind.

The November elections began a thawing-out of hope, a bit of spring stirring and poking up in heart and spirit. The battle for our country is far from over, but our troops have rallied, and the counter-attack is well in motion.

So here’s to 2019. May it be marked down as a Year of Renewal, and a Turning of the Tide. 


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Burning the old year

Burning the Old Year

-:-

by Naomi Shihab Nye

-:-

Letters swallow themselves in seconds.

Notes friends tied to the doorknob,

transparent scarlet paper,

sizzle like moth wings,

marry the air.

-:-

So much of any year is flammable,

lists of vegetables, partial poems.

Orange swirling flame of days,

so little is a stone.

-:-

Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,

an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.

I begin again with the smallest numbers.

-:-

Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,

only the things I didn’t do

crackle after the blazing dies.

-:-


“Burning the Old Year” from Words Under the Words: Selected Poems, © 1995 by Naomi Shihab Nye — Far Corner Books


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Light on evergreen branch

To the New Year

-:-

by W.S. Merwin

-:-

With what stillness at last

you appear in the valley

your first sunlight reaching down

to touch the tips of a few

high leaves that do not stir

as though they had not noticed

and did not know you at all

then the voice of a dove calls

from far away in itself

to the hush of the morning

​​​​​​​-:-

so this is the sound of you

here and now whether or not

anyone hears it this is

where we have come with our age

our knowledge such as it is

and our hopes such as they are

invisible before us

untouched and still possible

​​​​​​​-:-


“To the New Year” from Present Company–© 2005 by W. S. Merwin –
Copper Canyon Press

 



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‘Unsplash’ by sebastian-davenport-handley

G’Morning/Afternoon/Evening MOTlies!

What are your hopes for the New Year?



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