Saturday, January 2, 2021

Start

 A new year arrives. No sweet whispers in dark bedrooms after the fireworks die down, no excessive sparkle in your rose colored eyes as the ball drops: we all enter this year with clear eyes and low bars, rational, and alive. Still, a small glimmer remains, the very spark of humanity, the quiet voice that will not leave us alone: hope. 

Perhaps this year will be magic. Perhaps this year will give us opportunity to grow, to smile, to breathe easy. There is a chance yet. 

Perhaps this year will be good. It begins now. 

Make it sparkle. I know you can. 

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