New Year

A New Year has begun,
They say wondrously,
What is so new about it?
I ask ponderously

The cycle repeats,
Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn,
A new beginning, they say,
A continuation, I counter

If I were wrong,
There would be something tangible at the end of each year,
Instead, there’s nothing to show,
All momentary; laughter, a smile, fear, a tear

The year has gone,
Another one arrives,
With each celebration, I realize,
Nothing is real; it’s all an illusion,
It’s just a way to present time,
It was created to make it bearable,
To quantify this journey of ours,
To make it less frightening,

New is good and old is bad,
They lie to us,
But I’m not buying it,
A New Year is not new,
It’s just an old, ageless toy,
Gift wrapped in new paper…