Silent New Year

New Years Eve makes me melancholic. Don't know why, but I'm always restless and displaced on New Years Eve. Well, here's a bit of a strange write. You don't have to like it and by the way, I'm certifiably sane. (Had to pass the tests for education and for social services.)
Restless, anxious.
Wanting former days; wanting future days.
Wanting anything but this moment and its solitary plight.
Walking into a moonlit spot, I look out in expectation or is it despair?
I hear the babes rustling in their bunks, striving for ordered sleep.
Yet in my true self, I know.
Babes no longer lie in the other room safe from reveling drivers with too much to drink.
Loneliness sits there instead.
Silently in pain the space cries out.
Inside my heart the space cries back
to no avail.
In silent moonlight I begin the ritual dance.
The silence is not broken by word, or song or clattering explosions heard a short time past.
Instead, the silence gnaws and claws
devouring my waiting heart.
It would be sensible to go to bed now
to wrap myself in the numbness of sleep
to dull these keen senses that reach out for –
what? I do not know.
I wish my slumbering prince were riding through the night
to enter on the brisk east wind and whisk me away to a place
where there is no now:
no screaming silence clamoring for fulfillment,
bursting with unmade plans, unanswered visions, untold stories.
I sweep it away, and sweep it away, frantically striving to rid my world of its cry.
Yet the silence stays while all others abandon.
Soft tears surround my submissive form crumbling on the floor
Time? Time is a cruel master.
It stole my youth, my children, my vigor and left behind this crumpled mass:
a wadded loveletter, discarded without reading, its message bleeding in a bitter pool of tears.
These irrational thoughts and feelings surely belong to another.
This purposeless form cannot be the person who will face the coming dawn.
This bereft woman bears no resemblance to sparking eyes enthralled with family and tasks.
Some would not trust me if they knew.
And so with a sigh, I stand and stretch,
peer once more into the moonlight of a new day,
whisper my felicitation and stumble noisily to my bed, and my prince,
in hopes that the sweeping of the floor,
that the forward bracing of the wind,
that the solitary moonlight dance and the gentle dreams that lay in store
will usher in the fulfillment of this new age,
this new destiny,
this brand new year.