To begin a new year, you must first be empty.
So when you enter, your feet will be light.
Then, you must plant your feet, on the soil where the Chrysanthemum once flourished.
Allow yourself to marvel there — at the thought
that come autumn, they will flower again.
This is how you draw fresh hope. That while your dreams from last year slowly decay,
there are new ones buried beneath the ground.
And come autumn, they will all be yours.
Ben Zongte is a writer who has been featured here a number of times before. In this new poem here, his trademark elegance of style and thought has a cadence that is both dignified and stately.
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