So you aren’t Tolstoy or St. Francis
or even a well-known singer
of popular songs and will never read Greek
or speak French fluently,
will never see something no one else
has seen before through a lens
or with the naked eye.
You’ve been given just the one life
in this world that matters
and upon which every other life
somehow depends as long as you live,
and also given the costly gifts of hunger,
choice, and pain with which to raise
a modest shrine to meaning.
Wishing you celebrations that feel manageable and meaningful along with plenty of peace and quiet. And may your New Year and mine arrive with an abiding sense of purpose and possibility for what could be. Thank you so much for your support and readership.