what is with this newness that
doesn’t change anything?
the air still pricks like a year-old
thought, the water still burns and
scars the remnants of a shed-skin,
the blue stays a blue and warmth
only comes in intervals of counted
breaths, and all is fine, as fine as
it can be, on a fragile winter-sun,
still uncanny in its resemblance
with oldness and frailty, and yet
a pithy belief for rest and peace.
i pick moments from this stagnancy,
and venture for an apathetic re-
conciliation with my old selves,
drinking from the same pool of
aging and forgetting, and in mind’s
eyes, i can see that it is but the same,
the angles and frames have dearly
changed for a different, if not a better
perspective, of the dipping sky, going
beneath my window, into my words,
and quenching the need for change,
which is not in the coming today.
© Anmol Arora
Image source (Year of change at Wildwood by Andy Reisdorph)
Linking it up with this year’s first Tuesday Platform at With Real Toads
HA's Place 
Ch ch ch changes! As if we understood much less intended them. But here we are, open for business for another year, wondering if invention will be swept up by angelic intention. (Rotsa ruck!) A great meditation on one year’s end and the beginning of the next. The Roman god Janus represented a door that swings both ways, and we hover here between past and future, singing. — Singing well, friend.
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This is incredibly poignant! ❤ Your poem reminds me of what I heard & understood in Grey’s Anatomy which I will quote here:
“When we say things like people don’t change it drives scientists crazy. Because change is literally the only constant in all of science. Energy, matter, it’s always changing-morphing, merging, growing, dying. It’s the way people try not to change that is unnatural. The way we cling to what things were instead of letting them be what they are, the way we cling to old memories instead of forming new ones. The way we insist on believing despite every scientific indication, that anything in this lifetime is permanent. Change is constant. How we experience change that is up to us. It can feel like death or it can feel like a second chance at life. If we open our fingers, loosen our grips, go with it, it can feel like pure adrenaline. Like at any moment we can have another chance at life, like at any moment we can be born all over again.”
Wishing you a very happy and prosperous new year! ❤🎁
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I like your prose poem, I like your song choice (it is on my Favorites List). Your write is essentially like what one of my Facebook friends said this morning, “I’m not changing anything for 2019, I’m not the problem” (i.e. none of this mess is of my doing).”
..
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the air still pricks like a year-old
thought…
…the dipping sky, going
beneath my window, into my words
From first to last a most amazing poem.
All the best for a great year of poetry ahead.
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“they’re immune to your consultations/they’re quite aware what they’re going through” Perfect song choice to go with this. Sometimes change creeps up, instead of bursting in slamming the door.
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Every day is change, yet it takes a new year to notice… even if the change is less than any other day (often marked by hangover pizza instead of reflection)… wonderful writing
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warmth
only comes in intervals of counted
breaths, and all is fine, as fine as
it can be, on a fragile winter-sun,
I really loved this image, – outstanding!
sensitively soft as it creeps up and dawns ….
actually, this is a wonderful poem, from start to finish, as Kerry noted … a reflection of the old for new, new for old … yet it is within the subtle details (in this poem) like life, that we actually will find change.
the instances of grand fire-works life changing/altering course of events only happens briefly – really significant events, like death or births, accidents etc. (funny how it always seems to be the catastrophic that shakes us right out our socks) – but life is constantly flowing, energy that despite our beliefs, is always changing, moving etc. But it is within the recognition of the subtleties that we can only really appreciate how sublime it is. And it does often, because of our wanting, seem rather trivial in comparison to our desires and expectations.
Happy New Year Anmol – may it be a year filled with great blessings and pleasures, the ones that offer you the soul-sustenance that lifts you to great heights.
(Pat)
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the new year and all its changes – I start my year with hope and try to keep it going all year. It is hard but…
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A thoughtful poem, Anmol, with stunning imagery, especially in the lines:
‘the air still pricks like a year-old
thought, the water still burns and
scars the remnants of a shed-skin,
the blue stays a blue and warmth
only comes in intervals of counted
breaths…’
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Seems like ritual partaken in the sun. The change is subtle like the clouds in the sky, but the sky is the same.
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Nothing really changes except for our wish to change (which lasts how long? 🙂 Happy New Year!
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