Happiness depends on more than years.
All one's moments gather to a wave
Passing in a rolling swell of tears,
Passions too immense to name or save.
Yet New Year's is a crest on which to sing,
Now poised between the future and the past.
Each awaits what course the fates may bring,
Winds that never touch the things that last.
Years turn and turn with an hypnotic grace
Even as the depths of life lie still.
Although above one cannot silence face