In January the chance came to try the wide world out,
I hovered on the threshold, my thoughts awash with doubt.
It was too late to turn back now, I knew,
So I leaped beyond my comfort zone, across the ocean flew.
February and March, a blur of green and blue and traveling,
A thrill thrumming in my heart at the adventure unraveling.
It was lunch on the roadside and the backseat of a car,
It was looking up at the sky and seeing different stars.
April and May were home again, in muddy, melting snow.
Sagebrush wet with rain and the smell of Idaho.
I was a tangled knot of confusion, dreams, and fear,
The future stretched before me, tangible and near.
June and July were work, herding cattle in the hills,
The days were hard and dusty but occasionally still.
Creaking saddle leather, chasing down that cow,
Up here so far from anything, there is nothing but now.
In August I went to college, where everything was strange,
The waves of empty faces were nothing like the range.
This city closed around me, I felt it my bones.
Everything was different, in the crowd I was alone.
September and October were brightened, in ways,
With harvest party dancing and Netflix-bingeing days.
In the herds of people I slowly saw my friends,
My thoughts went up and down and tangled at their ends.
In November I felt hope and saw it bright and clear,
Newness may be ugly, but ‘tis nothing to fear.
I have something of a home there, and friends becoming dear,
These are what I return to when I go back next year.
Now, in December, the difference since the start,
Is a gradual calming deep inside my heart.
The great wide world was a place of so much fear,
But now it is no longer, and now I am here.