A graying gallant year, gaudily bedight,
Traveled by sunshine and moonlight,
Wandered long in search of the Light,
While ending, its strength wanes from blight.
Other pilgrims, though now bound no longer on site,
Shadows, weary from their travails and the fight,
Seek the land of rest, the promise in sight.
Shall they cross the mountains, guided by moonlight?
Hand in hand, the pilgrims and the year turned right,
Down the valley of Shadows, embracing the night.
Wishing to ride the sky, they boldly soar like kites,
As the cold-gray December brings lessons as sleight.
At last, by day's end, this year quietly departs,
The moon smiles gently; the sun winks with open hearts.
Come, New Year, newborns, bid the old year your fervent goodbyes,
Wishing you all good health and happiness as our spirits rise.
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