Years come,
And years go.
Every first of January,
We celebrate grandly,
What in actuality is,
A mere change of numerals.
Sending wishes,
Receiving wishes,
Asking for more,
Expecting sea change.
Three sixty four later,
The year ends.
Not finding what was sought,
Cast down,
Same story repeats,
The next year.
All the while,
Handily forgetting;
Unless the “seeker” changes,
Mere change in numbers
Would not bring in,
What is being sought.
Shall we start this New Year,
By counting the blessings
We had last year;
And vowing to change for better,
Along with the one,
Which changed to two.
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