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New Year’s Eve

So swiftly tick the minutes to the close
Of these twelve months, this day, and life itself!
Which jars of clay will stay upon the shelf
Another year, and which will break? God knows.

For only He who gave us life has power
To take us from this world when He deems best,
That’s why our hearts will beat, at His behest,
Our lungs will breathe, until that final hour.

The sands of time must sift, parched flowers must bend,
Dry leaves must fall, and waning flames must die;
But who can know when that set hour draws nigh
For each of us to meet his earthly end?

Should chilling winds this year pluck bare my tree,
Or sand grains cease, O Lord, then gather me!

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To My Running Mate

At break of day, I greet you, dearest friend,
And with the dawn, my solemn vow renew
To run with you this race, which we pursue
To seek a victor’s laurel at life’s end.

We run in tandem, striving not to thwart
Each other’s gains, nor seeking to outpace
Each other in life’s all-consuming race;
We run as one, that neither may fall short.

For in this contest, self’s the only rival.
We fight to win—but not against each other!
The foe within, besetting sins that smother—
Against these foes, we struggle for survival.

We help each other daily to advance,
To run each lap, with steady pace enduring;
And when I’d halt, your sweet face, so alluring,
Fills me with strength to run, to leap, to dance!

When I’d drift out to sea, you draw me shoreward.
On chilly days, your nearness keeps me warm.
Rejuvenates my fleet, but fading form,
And keeps me always running, moving forward.

At times, when I have stumbled on the way,
You’ve grasped my hand and urged me to go on,
You’ve stayed with me, when others would have gone,
You´ve been my rising sun at break of day.

And when at night, when things have seemed so black,
And unseen fears, like hungry wolves that howl
Have made me want to flee, throw in the towel,
You’ve helped me stay the course and keep on track.

Stick by my side, as life’s last beams decline,
And if you turn and see me not beside you,
Keep running still! Let God still gird and guide you,
And know I’ll be there when you cross the line.

.

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Martin Rizley grew up in Oklahoma and in Texas, and has served in pastoral ministry both in the United States and in Europe. He is currently serving as the pastor of a small evangelical church in the city of Málaga on the southern coast of Spain, where he lives with his wife and daughter. Martin has enjoyed writing and reading poetry as a hobby since his early youth.

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24 Responses

  1. Roy Eugene Peterson

    Both of these poems are fitting for the eve of the next year; a time of contemplation and ending the year with a prayer and an uplifting spirit.

    Reply
    • Martin Rizley

      Thank you, Roy, for your comments. I find the new year to be both a sobering and a hopeful time– sobering, because of the way the passing of the old year reminds us of time´s swift march and our own mortality, but hopeful, insofar as the new year brings with it the prospect of positive changes. So I certainly agree that it is a “time of contemplation” and that rightly leads to prayer.

      Reply
  2. Cynthia Erlandson

    “To My Running Mate” is a beautiful tribute; and you have used the running metaphor effectively to unify the poem. “New Year’s Eve” is lovely as well, particularly the prayer in the final two lines.

    Reply
    • Martin Rizley

      Thank you, Allegra, for your encouraging words! A happy new year to you.

      Reply
  4. Paul A. Freeman

    Two well-written poems, both apt for this time of year.

    Thanks for the reads, Martin.

    The picture Evan chose was the inspiration for my New Year’s Eve poem.

    Reply
    • Martin Rizley

      It is a fascinating picture– quite appropriate for the new year! It is interesting the similar imagery we use in our poems. I particularly like the closing quatrain of your poem: “Make disaffected adversaries, friends,/ damp down the ire that feeds and nurtures hate,/ for we’re in our Creator’s lasting debt,
      not he in ours, as one more orbit ends.” Life is far too fleeting and we are far too indebted to God for all his gifts to harbor resentment and hatred toward anyone– adveraries included (Matthew 5:44).

      Reply
      • Paul A. Freeman

        Thanks for having a gander at my poem. I wrote it New Year’s Eve, shortly after yours was posted. I wish I could feel more sanguine about this year. That said, I’ve picked myself up, dusted myself down and am already at work.

        It is amazing where we get our inspiration from. I drew a sugar cube on the board at work three days ago, had a story idea and wrote it up on the bus home.

        All the best for 2024.

  5. Yael

    I find both poems very enjoyable; especially the second one is really sweet, thank you. Happy new Year to you and all the other wonderful poets who bless us with your poetry.

    Reply
  6. Shamik Banerjee

    Two beautiful poems! The first one is what I often murmur to myself. The second poem literally feels like receiving a warm embrace from a dear friend. Its last stanza made me sentimental. Thank you for these gems, Mr. Rizley. Happy New Year!

    Reply
    • Martin Rizley

      A happy new year to you, as well, Shamik! Thank you for sharing your appreciation of the poems. As I mention to Margaret below, the second poem was written as a tribute to my wife. Many blessings to you in the coming year.

      Reply
  7. Margaret Coats

    Martin, a fine sonnet of appropriately closed quatrains to end the year. And a touching tribute to your running mate, with that special closing echo of Tennyson. From one jar of clay to another, have a happy and holy new year!

    Reply
    • Martin Rizley

      Thank you so much, Margaret! Of course, the running mate to whom I refer is my wife. I originally put as a subtitle to the poem, “To Paola, on the New Year”, but somehow, that subtitle got left out of the poem its published form, which is a shame. It was written as both a tribute and greeting to my wife. I hope you, too, have a very blessed New Year.

      Reply
      • Margaret Coats

        I remember your poem, “My Paola’s Love.” There are many New Year’s love-gift greeting poems in medieval French, usually shorter and not as well defined. You say a great deal in this one, and although the running imagery adds a touch, it has wider range of image and expression. “Dearest friend” and “solemn vow” reveal the lady’s identity, and I’m sure you have the subtitle in your personal collection.

  8. Brian A. Yapko

    Both poignant and profound, Martin. These poems are both gifts. Your Running Mate poem in particular brought tears to my eyes for the generosity of heart displayed in true friendship. Happy New Year!

    Reply
    • Martin Rizle

      Thank you, Brian, for your sharing with me your heartfelt response to the poems! May you have a blessed new year.

      Reply
  9. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    Martin, thank you for these two beautiful poems that hit the perfect tone for the new year. Here’s wishing you a joyous and poetry-filled 2024!

    Reply
    • Martin Rizley

      I wish the same for you, Susan– and for Mike, as well. Have a wonderful new year!
      And thanks for your encouraging words.

      Reply
  10. BDW

    To the following poem, I appended a quote from your recent poem, appropriate for one from Arkansas and Texas, residing in Málaga. I, too, made a decisive move, in my case to Texas, after my parents, and my wife’s parents died, and where my children now reside. Happy New Year, from one in the States.

    Last Night’s New Year’s Eve in the Metroplex
    by We Celebradius
    “…of these twelve months, this day, and life itself…”
    —Martin Rizley, “New Year’s Eve”

    Above, within his room, the toddler rested in his crib,
    free from the world of water-bottle, toasted-cheese, and bib.
    In Ancient Greece, a child was carried in a basket round
    to honor Dionysus, god of wine and joys unbound.

    Below, adults were playing and/or watching a board game;
    refreshments eaten and/or drunk, by all, one and the same.
    Completing Terraforming Mars, amidst fun, friends, and change,
    imbibing down the year with doce uvas and champagne.

    We clinked our glasses, made our wishes, watching the TV:
    the sky there filled with fireworks, three-hundred drones to see.
    We chatted happily for half-an-hour, and then began
    departing to our Earthly residences, as we planned.

    We Celebradius is a first-person poet of gatherings and celebrations. Doce Uvas (Twelve Grapes) is a tradition of Iberian, as well as, North and South American revelers.

    Reply
    • Martin Rizley

      By observing the custom of the “doce uvas,” am I right in assuming that you migrated to Texas from Spain? I wasn’t aware that this custom was known outside of Spain (although you indicate it is known throughout the Americas). Is “Terraforming Mars” a computer or board game?
      You are the first person that I know who has cited my words in a poem.

      A happy new year to you!

      Reply
  11. Geoffrey Smagacz

    “New Year’s Eve” is a lovely poem. You have something to say, and you say it well. The intensity of the voice and the gravity of the tone fit the theme and the images.

    Reply
  12. James A. Tweedie

    Martin, Two poems equal to or beyond your best. It is a beautiful thing when one is blessed with a good purpose in life, a companion to share the journey, joy in acknowledging the blessing, humility in giving thanks to the Source of that blessing, and creative skill to celebrate it.

    As I said, a beautiful thing.

    Reply

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