With New Year
I sit
reading poems of Chinese sages
with their paintings of mountains and mist
from a thousand years ago.
Outside, snow falls like it did then,
and inside, I muse on it and the ways of the world
as they did too.
In between, the sights and sounds of today wash over me
like in a dream
in a place and as a person I am always
only just getting to know
never quite sure I can accept
or trust what they have to offer;
security and comfort,
while snow continues to fall
amid mountains cloaked in mist.
(1/4/2021, first published in my 5th book of poems and stories, EXTRACTING THE ESSENCE, 2021)
Copyright © James Moore | Year Posted 2023
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