Updated: Jan 18, 2019
Just as the earth has taken 365 days to admire the sun in its totality, I hope you have taken all those sunrises and sunsets to treasure the person you have created this year. I look at you and see an angel with bruised wings and a dimmed glow. I look behind you and see where your footsteps have followed the brick path the King engraved your name on, and also where you have wandered. In wandering through a path uncreated, you have been bitten by the serpents, transformed by the butterflies, deceived by the cayotes, and have spent many nights guarded by the lions. Every healed wound leaves a reminder of your victory against every wolf dressed as love. I was there with you when you were ice on a mountain on the first sunny day of spring. I wish I had kept all your tears in a mason jar, so I could give you life with a cup full of your own emotions when you feel as hollow as the last standing cactus in a desert that hasn’t seen a cloud in two and a half years. You have lived through the raging fires that leave your mind and heart in ashes and still breathe just as the sun burns and breathes for you. The art you have created by burning ties with toxic waste keeps me in wonderment.
It was a year of hidden misery, and if you’ll let me play psychic, I predict a year of action and reward. I see you giving up sleep because you’re tired of sleeping through your dreams; you’re ready to live them. I am so excited for you to know everyone at the same three coffee shops you decide to go to every day. Your calendar will be filled with productivity and bright colors, while your favorite lines in the books you’ll read are painted in pastels. You’ll be proud of the bruised colors under your eyes because it will have meant your ideas just couldn’t wait until the morning. The walls of your conscience will be decorated with the canvas paintings you make at 2 a.m. because you had a vision that deserved to live forever rather than vanish after a moment in your mind. I hope your smile grows to be genuine, so you can throw away your mask. Instead of lugging around the darkness of a midnight that inspires nightmares, I want your eyes to carry the happiness of someone who wakes up before their alarm clock and has time to eat a full breakfast after having read a chapter of the book that has been hidden under a pile of dust on the nightstand.
In the next 525,600 minutes, I hope you have painted on your wings a celebration of who are and who you want to be. I look forward to learning from the mistakes you are bound to make that will strengthen the owl inside you. Soon, the secrets you tell the moon will make him realize that you are more than a star burning in this universe; that you are a manifestation of the power that married Saturn and painted the mountains with stardust. You will inspire all that is blessed by your presence to accomplish what it has never done before. The sun will rain for you, and the desert will flood. The ground will lift you up, and the sky will sing. The universe will follow in your footsteps this year as you let your mind prompt you to constantly be in pursuit of the life you have dreamt of. I await in anticipation to meet the person you are when we meet again after another beautifully treacherous trip around the sun.