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| Andrew Wyeth |
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For
You
The peace
of great doors be for you.
Wait at
the knobs, at the panel oblongs.
Wait for
the great hinges.
The peace
of great churches be for you.
Where the
players of loft pipe organs
Practice
old lovely fragments, alone.
The peace
of great books be for you,
Stains of
pressed clover leaves on pages,
Bleach of
the light of years held in leather.
The peace
of great prairies be for you.
Listen
among windplayers in cornfields,
The wind
learning over its oldest music.
The peace
of great seas be for you.
Wait on a
hook of land, a rock footing
For you,
wait in the salt wash.
The peace
of great mountains be for you,
The sleep
and the eyesight of eagles,
Sheet
mist shadows and the long look across.
The peace
of great hearts be for you,
Valves of
the blood of the sun,
Pumps of
the strongest wants we cry.
The peace
of great silhouettes be for you,
Shadow
dancers alive in your blood now,
Alive and
crying, “Let us out, let us out.”
The peace
of great changes be for you.
Whisper,
Oh beginners in the hills.
Tumble,
Oh cubs –tomorrow belongs to you.
The peace
of great loves be for you,
Rain,
soak these roots; wind, shatter the dry rot.
Bars of
sunlight, grips of the earth, hug these.
The peace
of great ghosts be for you,
Phantoms
of night-gray eyes, ready to go
To the
fog-star dumps, to the fire-white doors.
Yes, the
peace of great phantoms be for you,
Phantom
iron men, mothers of bronze,
Keepers
of the lean clean breeds.
Carl
Sandburg
From Carl Sandburg to all of us embarking on the
open door of 2019. The peace of old and new, and new appreciation of old. Old
books, old places, old earth, old landscapes and seascapes, old horizons, old
journeys – may they all be new to us. May we begin and begin and begin again.
Each day a new moment.
Happy
New Year!
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