Wishing you a happy new year!
The coming year? No, years ahead—
soar high, catch clouds and be a tree
now and then or forever,
and make promises to see 
the best sunrise the following year
or rake your thoughts
with the leaves stirring in breeze.
That's the way I wish you
on the first day of the year;
that's how discursive thoughts
rally within my mind
and land in pages at midnight.
Do not forget to behold
how fast the hands of clock move
and remind you of life
you want to live—in wonder,
in mirth and memories.
Every time a new year raps
at my door, I make promises
despite knowing they're fleeting.
I make promises to keep 
the mirror clean, to view the face
that faces prowling bats gnawing at
bones of bonds day after day.
I make a tree of promises 
like I won't waste time
in the rat race of capitalist minds,
among idiots circulating their
own dogmas and comfort zones.
The new year comes
and I make promises knowing well
promises are made and broken.
Still I continue making promises
to witness the world and you
through the vines of verse and
the loupe of love, in weal and woe,
amidst fog during biting cold,
amongst multitudes on the mid-sea.

Mohammad Shafiqul Islam, poet, translator, and academic, is Professor of English literature at Shahjalal University of Science and Technology, Sylhet, Bangladesh. Email: msislam-eng@sust.edu.