What is December? A think Piece after sunset, it's a new moon.

The other day I thought about my safe space, I closed my eyes and for the first time in nearly 10 years I imagined a brand new safe space. But it's not ten years ago, it's today. And today sits in the period between the old and the new, the page before the chapter ends.

Yesterday is gone and all I have left is a beautiful tomorrow. One that knows no sorrow, and yet brings me to the point of a tugged heart, as if my emotions were spread out on a keyboard and the accountant was pressing my buttons, calculating another woman's assets. As if.

The day is the first day of March, a new moon arrived, but let's talk about December again. December comes as fast as the period ends. It lingers very long until it cannot be ignored but at least be blurred. Out of sight, out of mind. Should we bid the last December farewell? This last Christmas we rocked with the rhythm of everything but blues.

Everything was loud and nothing was quiet. Every morning was mild, until the sun set and the moon rose for us to call out, come out, and with our muse. Every song was right. Every son was right. Every love was just right. You could almost feel the difference in the taste of your food, the sound of your neighbours' broom. You could sense it in the half empty church, the over flowing rave halls and in the uniform of acceptance: this is DECEMBER. Should we let go and forget this last December?

Maybe this new moon in March is the one that forces the boat into the shores, and the lifeguard into the water. Maybe this new day is coming to save us from the reality that we need to hurry up, pack up, and close shop, the celebration is over, it's time to hunt. Hunt down your preys. This could be the force of the day, the want of all kind, including mankind.

To see those who hurt others get hurt themselves, even though it requires another to do that which they discern punishment on. Maybe it's time to let the ocean wash away the taste of this alcohol that we drank, so we may make room for a little bit more than alcohol. Something much more bitter. Something venomous and vile.

Four seas and two rivers away, the newness of March is coming soon and we should try to embrace the spirit surrounding this new season. For it is one of fire and ice.