Stygian shadows
admit,
admit,
your defeat.
You are cornered
feral ideas,
darkened songs,
bitter death.
'Round this jungle
the lambent sun
has come
to admit,
to admit its
utter ascendancy.
...

Scrape away the
mulching leaves
from last year
and the clinging
mud between the
grooves
of your boots;
stomp.

It's a new year.

I am frustrated with myself. My head echoes with the pulsing of a headache. My schedule is too packed and I am overwhelmed. It seems like I don't even have time for the small important things. My mind is consumed with a whirlwind of thoughts and many of my obligations stand unfulfilled. It's a new year, and yet I don't find too much joy in it.

And... so I take myself back to square one. And I teach myself to pray; simply.

"Thank you, God, for today. Thank you that I can feel anything at all. Thank you for my head. I'm so glad I have one. Thank you for my eyes. The sky is cloudy and the air is cold, but thank you that I can see and feel the beauty of your world. Thank you for sight. Thank you for my dear family and for my job and for all this busy-ness. Thank you that I even have a family. Thank you that I even have a job. Thank you for your breath-taking provision. Thank you for caring for me; I don't deserve it. Thank you for your grace and the courage to do the things I need to do but haven't, the things I should do, and the things I've already done. You are mighty. Thank you for my fingers- so that I can write this. Thank you for my mind- that I can capture these humble thoughts. Thank you for my health. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for my cup of steaming coffee. Thank you, thank you... for my life. "