Anew

You try to hold tradition
But it might still slip away
Like fingers on a rocky cliff
When the rope begins to fray

Nothing lasts forever
However much we try
Objects break or turn to dust
Even memories die

But love is never-ending
If we truly let it bloom
It lights a dark and bitter night
And fills an empty room

Magic blossoms out of love
And miracles are born
When we let ourselves begin anew
Like that first, bright Christmas morn.