May a kind soul give you warm soup, the kind you like.
May another bring you elderberry syrup, the dark elixir,
which may or may not help.
When your body shivers and quakes from the cold earth shaking within,
May the bathtub fill quickly.
May the hot water never run out.
If you have children, may they rediscover the joy of reading.
May you have a bed and soft pillows
to absorb the aches
from this unseeable burden.
And when you lie down to sleep, may you sleep.
You’ve been bested.
Forgive the one you think gave you this misery.
Accept that you will feel this way for the rest of your life.
Until you don’t.
Your mind will be sharper than it has been in weeks.
The unbendable wooden chair that was your body will be supple and free.
The world will look different
as if you’d drunk from the fountain of wonder.
This, may you carry with you into the new year.
May it be your beacon
through the snow, the heavy rain,
And recaptured with the first flower unfurling.
