The Point of New Years

Born anew as foretold

By the sundered calendar on the floor,

A wandering mind walks in the new years cold

Along the bay they love to saunter.

Although a place well wandered

Their new eyes see new life in old sights.

Like barren trees of puffed cotton in the distance.

This new perspective strengthens their stride.

Dockyards working away diligently.

Their lights sparkling

Like an industrial Christmas tree.

Wreaths and flowers laid down

Where lonely ghosts sit.

An old pirate ship

End wrought by mischievous mermaids

Disintegrates in the muck where waves once lapped at its

Desolate boards. Veins of metal clinging

Desperately to remnants of the past

Clouds caress the cleft of two mountains,

Covering mysteries to behold.

A bridge nuzzled by Douglas fur, shrouding

And guarding the path ahead.

Subsumed by the fur, a miniature forest,

Thick enough to stifle light and rain, yet spread out

To make bars of a playground to run through.

The beacon of a far away land

Peeks through the misty clouds.

As time passes, the encroaching mist

is illuminated with an eerie white glow.

The beacon engulfed and slowly consumed.

A tree clinging desperately to the shore

As it dips its long limbs into the cool, calm waters.

It’s base grasping for the soil that once was

Now ready to embrace all

Seeking shelter from the dripping sky.

A wasteland of the sea floor, waiting to grab hold

And suck down hapless boots and shoes.

Ducks and geese braving the battered land

The boardwalk protecting travelers from what lays

In the dirtied grass

A raised bench amongst the carnage.

For lovers to hold and behold

Dazzling lights encrusted in the range of mountains.

Wedding arches of nature

Curling over the man made path in intricate designs,

Welcoming hearts hand in hand.

UFOs sighted, their lights

Breaking the tree line to signal

A path to salvation.

The ocean blurs and streaks the sparkling lights

Into its depths below.

A cabin on the edge of the woods

Illuminated by its festivities for all to see.

Traces of bricks and mutilated metal motors

Foreshadow the blasted brick mill bracing itself for the next day

Full of waves trying to reclaim

Failed foundations.

The wooden pill box,

Slits watch the battlefield

Towered over by buildings of gloriously glowing glass

And a series of sturdy yet unaligned wooden posts

Marching toward the outermost border of land,

Surrounded on all sides,

Pushing and pulling the waves each day from engulfing the shoreline.

The sun, well behind the mountains

Still provide a subtle glow in the misty clouds.

The forest spreads further from the path,

Keeping the trees peppered with nests

Far from human hands.

A gazebo in the outcropping,

Reserved for lovers to take in the sights.

Hoping for the perfect sunset to bless their love.

Rocks for mermaids to relax after long days

Of sinking ships, lead up to the remnants of the mill.

Pits to hold jovial fires dot its carcass

Mocking its fiery death. Yet even without the dancing flames

Hungrily lapping up meals provided by the forest,

Lights and water surround it completely

So even in the mid of night, a faint shadowy illumination

Lets wandering minds meander, and take in the vastness

Of the lack of land around them. Clouds engulfing the skies

Retreat to frame the deep blue ocean above

And the smallness of man. The vast open space

Crushes and constricts carbon life

Into diamonds, humbled in their newfound gift.

A single cloud pulls back,

Unmasking the glowing moon

Creating a spotlight on the newfound mind as if by divine rite.

The misty clouds continue to retreat, stars twinkling through adamantly.

Although the night grows older,

The darkness becomes enlightened.

The sky now mirrors the water.

Clear and sparkling.

Even the depths of the forest are lit with a dim, shadowy hue.

The journey is almost over when a mini meadow

Breaks the tree line for lovers

To frolic and bask an assortment of lights.

Five tall trees gather in a circle where a constructed arch once stood.

Evoking an occult spell,

Binding two hearts to one another, so that they may grow and prosper together.

Holding the other always

A playground and shelter placed above

A bridge and beach mark the end of the journey.

The area flooded with light.

Sparse spreads of trees cast long shadows across the beach,

Dipping their limbs in the cool calm waters.

A train barrels it’s way through the misty clouds,

It’s small beam of light shining through like a shooting star.

Like the changing tides, this resting point for families alters throughout the days

Like a pair of all too familiar trunks, creating a hammock at their base.

Missing in action.

Stray posts find themselves soldiering the depths of the water.

Crusted with life, fighting a losing battle

Against the waters themselves. Boats thank them

For the calm bay they defend from the frontlines.

From the created calm,

The land has turned in for the night.

Gentle streams rolling across the hills to be conscripted into the ocean

And the steady pace of the meandering mind

Are the only sounds to disturb the peace this after eve.

The mind too feels it time to turn in

Despite being ablaze with thoughts. They head home to find a pit

To lay the jovial blaze.

Burning red eyes of a decorated nocturnal house

Pierce the veil of the trees.

Awake to enjoy what day dwellers miss

When their own eyes glow red from fatigue,

Knowing one light to guide their way.

Choosing the more lit path home,

The mind crosses path with a dog of the woods. They both stop their march

Locking eyes.

Observing a lack of threat, they both continue on their way.

One dipping out of nature to civilization,

The other out of civilization to the place the former calls home.

Tubby city dogs walk the border of the two lands,

Lashed but smiling.

A blurred image of their former selves, now dipping into their domain

For scraps.

The clouds fully retreat

As the city is reached. Stars still partially masked.

But the mind continues

Content. Not wishing to sully their journey

With greed.

Crystalline snow blankets the ground at a once windowed bus stop.

A trail marker for the journey back.

The gruelling trip back rewarded

Atop a steep hill where the stars sparkle in the night sky.

The first Christmas lights.

A mind rests their aching joints in their heated hovel.

Yet their mood is more motivated than misery, a mind flourishes with thoughts of wonder.

As their eyes close for slumber.