Beforeword: The image of this old Jamaican house popped up in my Facebook feed. Well, it begged to be my muse and so this poem was birthed—“This Old House, This Old Year”.

Like an old house, the past year holds cracks, scars, and beauty—reminding us to embrace resilience, cherish love, and build hope in the year ahead. My word for 2025 is HOPE!

Happy New Year WPers!

The old year stands like an aged house,
its frame leaning from the weight of time,
its walls etched with the marks of joy and struggle.
The floorboards groan with the memory of steps—
some hesitant, some bold,
each one carving its place in the story.

The roof, patched, imperfect,
shielded through storms,
even as the rain seeped in through cracks.
Shingles rusted, paint stripped away,
layers of who you were laid bare,
revealing not ruin, but resilience.

Yet, inside, beauty remains.
The faint warmth of a fire long extinguished,
the soft hum of voices carried by the breeze.
Here is where love lingered,
where family gathered,
where arguments burned hot
but always cooled into peace.

The old year reminds you:
every crack tells a story,
every scar a survival.
What wore you down also built you up.

As the new year rises,
like a fresh foundation waiting to be laid,
remember this:
Mend the broken places,
but don’t erase their history.
Invite the light in, even if it exposes your flaws.
Forgive the storms, for they shaped you.
Celebrate the strength in what still stands.

Fill this new year with love so fierce
it becomes the shelter you need.
Open your doors to joy,
your windows to hope.
And when this year, too, becomes weathered,
may it stand proud—like this old house,
a testament to how well you lived it.

2025 All Rights Reserved
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Image credit: Facebook

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In creative solidarity, Dee