New Year
I stepped out onto the porch this morning.
Finally, snow.  It was a long time coming.
It’s not one of those snows that
cripples the city.
But it laid enough down
to cleanse this vale.
The cold, bitter cold,
bit my flesh
reminding me of my fragile existence.
The frigid air swelled inside my lungs,
crackling the stale oxygen held tightly within.
It is not what I expected.
It wasn’t the blinding blizzard that
I demanded.
It was a sweet and gentle falling.
It was a cleansing that gifted me today.
White washing the world from
it’s dingy history.
Polishing the fenestella,
allowing my eyes to encounter
the brilliance of the azure vault,
discovering the delights once hidden behind melancholy.
Freezing the dripping heartbreaks of the past
and worries of the future
into sparkling icicles
fracturing the light,
melting into gutters,
flowing through the sewers to oblivion.
Stepping back into the warmth,
I must remember to cultivate this freshness,
not allowing malaise to shroud the bliss.
A virgin bloom has opened this morn,
may it’s favor ever bless the new year.
This month has been a gift.  I made a commitment and made it through to the end.  I discovered, no, that’s not right…I let myself see what has always been there.
         I create.  I know that. I am happiest when I create. It’s always been there.  From the time I made May alters for Mary when I was in grade school at Holy Rosary, till yesterday, learning how to tie a knot in elastic cord so it won’t come undone, my soul yearns to create.
          I also love to share.  I know that, too.  I love giving gifts, especially ones that I’ve made.  I love to watch people open presents.  Since I was a child, I wasn’t so interested in getting gifts as I was watching people open gifts.  I love to see faces glow when a gift is open, especially when it is something that is cherished.
         But here’s the hitch.  Once I see what I have made and given to the delight of my friends, that old ego kicks in and starts to find ways to get “rich.”  “What ifs” abound and the joy is sucked from the creation.  I start planning to quit my job and just do “this.”  It will make me happy AND I can make a living out of it.
         It is that ego checking in.  This is my work in progress.  This is my core story.  It is what seems to be at the base of my poetry.  I am glad to be able to see it.  My project for 2011: Tame the ego, but let dreams live.  It really boils down to living fully in the present. All the great mystics, philosophers, and happy people, understand this.  Disappointment lives in the past and fear looks wantonly to the future, taking my life hostage. It is the here and now that I must live and make time to create. 
In the end….
Thank you Susan of the Evening Pie for being my writing buddy. I’ve learned so much from you about life, resiliency and being real. (Please take a look at her blog. You can’t help but be inspired. )
Thank you Sojourner Deb for giving me the courage to connect to Him in my writing and the inspiration to add to my bag of creativity. You are a great example of letting your voice be heard through your art. (Take a peek here, too. It’s a delight. )
Thank you Reverb10 for giving me the opportunity to challenge myself. 
Have a great year!

December 31 – Core Story What central story is at the core of you, and how do you share it with the world? (Bonus: Consider your reflections from this month. Look through them to discover a thread you may not have noticed until today.) (Author: Molly O’Neill)

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