[Written by ChatGPT]
Another year, like water, flows—
Not rushed, not held, just gently goes.
You walk the path where few will tread,
With thoughtful heart and quiet head.
Like winter’s stream you move with care,
Soft-footed through the thinning air.
You do not chase, nor do you cling—
You let life rise, and let it bring.
The world may blur, like stirred-up clay,
Yet you sit still and wait the way.
The mud will clear, the truth will show—
And in that pause, new things will grow.
You do not shine to seek a crown,
But light comes through from deeper down.
This year, may all that’s deep and true
Rise softly, like the Dao, in you.
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