January
With a face set forward and a face turned back, I enter the January to reflect as I bury a year’s days now night-black as dawn’s light draws me toward
the blazing bright ahead of unformed hours’ days whose challenges I fear, shrinking backwards from the year whose dim horizon glows with rays of opportunity, I dread,
to be forced to confide my callouses and scars from the devil-year I knew to the Light-Maker, You who fill the velvet void with stars, and in its blanket let me hide.