T. S. Eliot

Very challenging to pick the poem that I feel is the summation of this year; have spent the week reading through my shelf (yes! an entire shelf, 40+ volumes of poetry--how delicious) to choose the right words.

In the end, I return to one of the first poets I met, Mr. Eliot. I choose to leave this calendar year with bits from The Four Quartets; I will not quote all 60 pages of the poetry, but if you've not treated yourself to a reading of this work, I would think it would make an excellent beginning to 2011.

from Burnt Norton (named after his country home in Gloucestershire):

"Footfalls echo in the memory

Down the passage which we did not take

Towards the door we never opened

Into the rose-garden.  My words echo

Thus, in your mind.

                   But to what purpose,

Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves

I do not know."

and from Little Gidding (named after an Anglican religious community):

"For last year's words belong to last year's language

And next year's word await another voice."

Here's to new words and new language and a new calendar year.  Happy 2011 everyone!