A New Year's Toast

Tonight we stand upon the cusp of time. 

The future spreads before us, and the past slinks off behind.

We have felt the chill of a dry martini

And the icy breath of the Reaper asking if we were OK

After we lumbered up the stairs. 

But here we are. 

The aged year has done his best and worst.

Shambling toward his fellows, he proffers neither harm nor good.

We turn our eyes to the infant. 

Will he be a bratty child, a nasty adolescent, a villainous old man? 

That’s the thing about a newborn – you never know. 

To this babe we lift our glasses, for only he can bring us anything. 

Courageously we celebrate time -- the stuff of life.

The only way is onward.

To the New Year!