A poem for New Year’s Eve 2020.
The last rays of daylight
paint the west in shades of rose and gold
as the sun sets,
exhausted, on the last day
of the longest year of our lives,
limping to its weary conclusion.
Tired and worn as I am
I confess I feel
a strange measure of satisfaction;
when faced with the challenges
of this unprecedented year,
I have linked arms
with friends and colleagues
and stridden boldly forward,
leading with creativity,
with compassion and resilience;
even in the midst of hardship,
I have tried
to put out more kindness
and beauty into the world,
to leave a mark of love;
I have faithfully preached
a more just and generous world,
and fought to make it so.
I know I’ve been far from perfect
and the battles fought this year
are far from over –
and I will keep on fighting –
but for this one moment,
as we crest this year’s last rise
and begin the descent
into the borning darkness of the new,
I feel content, even blessed,
to know God has been with us
and that I have done my best.
This is the Day 
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