The 3:30 Project is a collaborative blog by three life long friends: Maggie, Mary Margaret and Jillian. To follow up on our letters to 2017, we’ve each chosen a poem that informs and speaks to our hopes and thoughts on the year.
by Sheenagh Pugh
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don’t fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough, that they can’t leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.
amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.
by W. H. Auden
Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree,
Putting the decorations back into their cardboard boxes —
Some have got broken — and carrying them up to the attic.
The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed-up, for the rest of the week —
Not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted — quite unsuccessfully —
To love all of our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away,
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long.
from “Wait For It”
by Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton: An American Musical
I’m not falling behind or running late
I’m not standing still I am lying in wait
Life doesn’t discriminate
between the sinners and the saints
it takes and it takes and it takes
and we keep living anyway,
we rise and we fall and we break
and we make our mistakes
and if there’s a reason
I’m still alive
when so many have died,
then I’m willing’ to-
Wait for it…