Every December,
I tell myself
I won't be scared 
of the new year.
I don't want to be
scared to lose.
I don't want to be
scared to fail… 
or to succeed.
I don't want to be
scared to laugh,
to be happy–
for fear it will all be taken away.
I don't want to be
scared of thunder, 
mistaking it for bombing.
This year, I mean it.
2019 taught me 
not to be scared to dream.
I learned you can fly
over obstacles–even to Europe,
a dream I thought was impossible.
This year, my brain is full of lists, 
resolutions and questions–as usual. 
But now I am a bit less scared, 
a bit more courageous. 
And that little bit of courage
is like a gale-force wind.