It’s been a long, unyielding year,
A seesaw of joy and shadow near.
I hold my tongue, though it aches to say,
Hadn’t I earned a stiller day?


In December’s hush, I sought reprieve,
A quiet pause—a chance to breathe.
But life, that cunning trickster wise,
Strikes swift beneath unguarded skies.


Perhaps the storm is the lesson clear,
That peace comes not from fleeing fear.
Yet still, I dream of calmer streams,
A fleeting rest, a softer dream.