2021 is coming to an end and about to close
This has been a year of mixed gratification,
I’m thankful for the new lessons I have learnt
And for one there is even a deeper connection.
***
I have my dreams and hopes for my future years
I would love to see the granting of my wishes in 2022,
A possible sea change, a new career, contentment
All dreams that I would love to see come true.
***
A decisive year of change, a realisation of needs
A wedding on the horizon, or maybe even two,
Delivery into safe, strong hands and loving heart
We have done our time, surely it is now our due.
***
An emotional healing of past scars and wounds
The possibility of new adventures in a strange land,
Continuation of healing and necessary goodbyes
And a loving caring Soul leading me by the hand.
***
I’ve thoughtfully and painstakingly put in my request
The lay of the land, my intentional hopes and plans,
Baby steps forward, each step taking me closer to my goal
Until I’m safely delivered into those gentle and loving hands.
***
I know there’s a huge number of major obstacles
Needing solutions in complicated and creative ways,
The Universe is working her magic in the background
Answering my intentions, dreams and hopes as they lay.
***
2022 holds so many possibilities, so much excitement
Adventures, laughter, loving, connections, promise,
A year, I feel will turn my entire life, totally on its’ head
Sifting out the old pain and letting in all that’s honest.
***
I will not struggle, fight or resist the lessons to be learnt
I welcome the change, happy to just go with the flow,
My wants and wishes gently released into the stratosphere
Where will I eventually end up, right now nobody knows!
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Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
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Originally posted on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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