Turning of the Year

Rather grim weather, and looking at the news, the world, already grown dark, may grow darker still. This is reflected in this rather melancholy Saturday poem:

Turning of the Year

Time is at the turning of the year
End of the old, start of the new
This darker world, so full of fear
The branches creaking on the yew

Janus, god with two faces, stares
Along the fractured lines of time
A world is weeping full of tears
January speaks of winter clime

The bells ring out, a call to prayer
Adhaan sounds across the dawn
The cries go out, beware, beware
Chess player moving little pawn

Beware the curse of time, my friends
That eats the world until it ends