My bread basket filled
with bread and wine,
and I hope yours is, too,
as I, we, stroll into 2018
hand in hand,
in love,
in joy,
in communion with nature,
with each other,
and Christ.
My hearts now open.
My eyes to the top of the mountains,
the blue skies,
the Heavens,
the journey.
I awe.
This New Year,
I start at the bottom,
indebted,
with many forks to choose.
For the many winding trails,
faith of trees, and under bushes,
I look for prayer
and Christ.
And His Guidance.
It was a cold January morning.
The first of many to come,
frost of winter biting at my feet,
escaping my lips,
and snow flurries at my knees.
I zest.
Paying homage,
as birds sing in my hearts
and blossoms dance in my eyes.
So glorious
with Christ in my soul.
My feet on the right trail,
I continue to awe,
trees draped in white,
awaken,
for my guided path.
Snow tracks of the past I bury.
Fresh new tracks,
I forge.
My eyes and mind focus.
A deer locks my eyes and darts away,
a pair of rabbit make a beehive home,
all in wonderment,
all in longevity and immortality,
perhaps signage.
So glorious.
The landscape,
and the ascent.
It was a cold January morning.
the first of many to come.
I warm to the task.
I continue to look at the peak,
I awe,
blue skies,
the Heavens.
I bow to this New Year,
Christ, peace, happiness, wealth
and good health.
To all a blessed 2018.

Logan Robertson

1/02/2018