The bright New Year shines down,
All that we lived in the last now past,
The new cast over like a wedding gown,
And set to hold steadfast.
The wings of things we cannot see,
They dance about in other places,
And sing the songs that set us free,
Though we may never see their faces.
Names we give them, down through time,
Such as fate and future cast,
They that wrap about the coming days like frozen rime,
And freeze away the remnants of the past.
They that can by our own bequest alter yet to be,
That stir the air and plasma of our life,
Yet not one of them can we see,
Which cut the coming times like a knife.
So we have the reins to steer them by,
Our own recourse to life and being,
And in our own visions our future lie,
For we can go forth without the seeing.