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  • By Adam Sedia

The New Year



The fields stretch out, bare, icy: __Wide, blank, yet-unetched slates, Tabulae rasae, waiting __The chisel of the Fates,


But deep beneath their starkness __A mighty force has stirred, The germ of the becoming, __Unknown, unseen, unheard.


Its course is set in motion __That none may stop or stall: The seeds sown and forgotten __Must sprout, bloom, fruit, and fall.


What shoots will break the furrows, __Coaxed by the waxing sun? What harvest will they proffer: __When the sun’s course has run?


For now they hold their secret; __They tease the guessing eyes, Which only gaze in wonder __And fear at what shall rise.


Adam Sedia (b. 1984) lives in his native Northwest Indiana, with his wife, Ivana, and their two children, and practices law as a civil and appellate litigator. In addition to the Society’s publications, his poems and prose works have appeared in The Chained Muse Review, Indiana Voice Journal, and other literary journals. He is also a composer, and his musical works may be heard on his YouTube channel.

3 Comments


martinmccarthy1956
martinmccarthy1956
Feb 10, 2022

I like this poem a lot, but 'waxing' in verse 4 doesn't work for me, although it is a very good word and I can see that you have chosen it deliberately and carefully. I just feel that some other word would give that verse more of a punch. Always a pleasure to read your work.

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Cindy Erlandson
Cindy Erlandson
Jan 01, 2022

Very beautiful!

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crivellistreet
crivellistreet
Dec 31, 2021

Bravo!

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