A new day was just about to come,
And a new year lapsed when the cold made us numb.
We rough and ready were all bundled up,
We held back conserved energy like a young pup.
In anticipation, which was so very high,
Our drum mallet beats began entering the sky,
At location—Old City Hall—with its new face,
Still on Queen’s Street at its usual place.
Everyone was appareled in holiday cheer,
For an annual rite set for the New Year.
Hope was triggered for a better tomorrow,
Putting behind any of yesterday’s sorrow.
The countdown led to the clock’s strike twelve.
The sparkles began, in mantra we delved.
Fireworks popping revealing their powers,
Their reflections we viewed off those glossy towers.
The crowds did swell from that moment on.
Things got tighter and tighter on pavement and lawn.
The sounds were volumed from our vocal cords,
And from party animals—ladies and lords,
Smile stretched across round heads for sure,
In a groove that hinted more towards the pure.
While the smell of pot was so thick in the air,
There was actually very little feeling of despair.
The mood was good and our hearts did beat,
As we stood so long on unrelenting feet.
Burning our lungs in the centre of this cold,
All that were there were really so bold.
While welcoming in another round to go,
The winds of time make calendar pages blow.
(Written last year. It is now nostalgic.)
May the source be with you!
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Source: http://thewalkingmonk.blogspot.com/2021/01/thursday-december-31-2020.html
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