Leap into the New Year.

Leap into the new year.

Feel its scented robes wrap around your thighs and across your torso--the rouge of royalty. Oh the new year and its possibilities! Youth's complex hope shines a light on the future. The younger the light, the brighter it shines. And how blindingly strong its beam can be!

Leap into the new year.

Where new tests tell of a character's muscle; where new trials tell of a character's resilience; where the written past drives the creator's ambition.

Leap into the new year.

We celebrate to purge ourselves of the previous year: To baptize ourselves in inebriation and awaken the next day with the sludge burned out of our bodies, flushed down all the cold and depressing toilets laying at the quiet corners of every madly euphoric party.

Leap into the new year.

The lines on its face are growing much deeper. I remember when the new year had the unweathered skin of the newborn baby. Yet each wrinkle on father time's face speaks of consternation and woe. I now see the new year's face as I see father time's: a book to be read and then mourned.

Leap into the new year.

Leap like a frog to the pond, ruffling the surface, sending insignificant ripples across the flat establishment. In the quiet morning, the splash of the world's billions may be heard as they fill their lungs with old air and plunge beneath another year's ocean. I wonder how deep they'll dive this time?