Limit tending to Quixotism but not too far from Pragmatism (Realised I hadnt blogged all of 2020, so here goes)

 I just realised I hadnt blogged all of 2020. Well, what a year it has been!

As we wind the year up and look forward to the year ahead, here is a poem I wrote about 2020.

Limit tending to Quixotism but not too far from Pragmatism.

2020 is no doubt coming to end on a sombre note, but life probably is about the inevitability of hope.

While we wait to say to Covid-19 our good-byes, and give to a safer world, our high spirited hi-fi’s,

Quixotism somewhat describes our cautious wait for the “old normal”.

While we continue to look forward, there is no doubt we also need to look back in the journal,

For this year has definitely presented many an opportunity to think and also re-think.

 

The vaccine may well be for the scientists and experts to solve,

But changing our mindless and wasteful ways of the “old normal” could be our collective resolve.

Howsoever hopefully we wait for the world to be safer again soon so we can welcome and celebrate the new,

We cannot forget that this year has presented many of us more time to embrace family, friends and new found hobbies to pursue

 

There have been many misses and losses; A few hits and happy moments hopefully make up for the gloomy forgettables.

Dreams that came true, and nightmares that turned horribly true too.

But, all hope is not lost as we prepare to carry forward those yet-to-turn-true (not so!) few.

Frustrations, disappointments, anger, disgust - they were undoubtedly all there.

But then, to look forward to a better life, if not returning to the “old normal”, is only fair.

 

The New Year brings with it, Hope and Promise. Of a life, better.

A message of happiness and success in spirit and letter.

As we set sail on yet another journey towards a better future on the days after tomorrow,

We do have a few more wonderful moments of this year from which our “Future Nostalgia” will borrow.

 

The direction of the wind, in or against which, we choose to set sail,

Cannot weaken the Hope for Hope, for it is the Dream of a Better tomorrow that we trail.

The sea breeze and its occasional sweet whisper,

Makes those Dreams and Desires a tad bit crisper.

The sea waves rushing away and returning,

Like they were signaling in a way, something.

 

At the shores, the waters and their oft unobserved persistence,

And so is the virus as of now; Though like to many such harms, we continue to build resistance;

Thoughts go back to the serenity of the Sea at night.

Probably Reminding one of Destiny's or Nature’s might.

 

The perils of the sea for which I, a sailor in my own right, mentally prepare,

The effects of the defects in my life, which I attempt and endeavor to repair.

The Eternal Optimist in me does not understandably like to imagine despair.

I feel like the Stoic yet cautious sailor; a skilled and alert master of sea-fare.

 

I feel like a Captain of a regiment trained in war-fare.

Setting sail, hopeful of an accomplished home-coming filled with fan-fare.

Looking forward to coming back to something really nice.

For when the world feels safe and makes us happy, we don’t think of Paradise.

 

-       Quixotic Seizonsha