A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
Our ways of celebration have come and gone
We have left them behind in a period we no longer belong.
But we have been blessed
With new ways
And new peoples
To live our lives with us.
And we have been even more blessed
To have reminders and continuances of the past
Of small parts of the important things
That we cared about so much.
It may not be the same as it once was,
But it is not worse.
Just, a new kind of good.