I don’t consider myself a poet, but I have journals full of free verse from my high school creative writing classes. I found it to be a relaxing pastime and an effective vehicle for expressing the jumbled-up emotions of my teen years. Every once in a while I am inspired to write poetry, as was the case following a visit with a dear friend who is more than 100 years old. She is a remarkable woman with a sharp mind, quick wit and wealth of wisdom earned through tough times and an insatiable appetite for reading and learning. A woman of faith and a writer herself, she has touched many a soul with her empowering presence, listening ear, and ability to cut to the heart of a matter with grace and love. I wrote For January as an expression of my gratitude for the privilege of knowing this very special…
Why I love January
