Stars at my fingers and time at my feet,
I set fire to a brief history.
To ashes and dust, the pages retreat,
and to ashes to dust goes my memory.
The good, let glory be its name,
igniting in all but a blaze.
The bad, these lessons, lit the same,
in brilliance and honor to fog and haze.
The future clasps me by the hand.
For promises new and promises old,
it gives me the Gift most in demand.
Time in the Present, priceless, unfold.
+ Happy New Year +