Today is just another day.
But somehow it’s not. It’s new.
With a single strike we begin again. It’s a type of magic, it is.
To come around to the same place. But it’s not the same place.
And we ourselves have changed. Though we sense something familiar.
We mustn’t let that weigh. Not more than is helpful.
Or we risk repeating what we already have gained.
So let yester be our platform. Let us only step ahead.
And may the good be in our path the entire time.
No matter how many passes we make.
