Greetings to the 2018 birth of December,
You don’t know me yet, but I’ve been waiting 11 months to meet you, so allow me to introduce myself; my name is Brooklyn.
And I am a writer. My subject? You. Everyday that I am alive, I live and breathe to write your story. At least, one of your stories which also happens to be my story.
You see, there are about seven billion people in the world that sprout from the soil you’ve so kindly planted; a new set of seconds, minutes, hours, days, and even weeks for us to transform into something bigger than what we were the month before.
December, you are time.
Like all others that came before you, you are time. Time we can simply never get enough of, so let me be the first to say that I will spend it wisely. Acknowledging you as the beautiful truth that you are; valuable.
What? Day five already?
How remarkable, you’ve already given me almost 120 hours to progress and grow as a person and for that, I am indebted to you.
And with you, I am indebted to God. For God created time. Created you, created me, created every little thing that has come into existence. Dear God, I am thankful.
You are the gift that keeps on giving.
So, to December,
My name is Brooklyn and I am the seed buried deep within your soil.
I will reach for the sky with every inch that I grow from the water you so kindly feed me.
And I pray that you feed me because without you, without time, I cease to exist.
And I want to exist.
For the purpose of growing.
December, salutations.
B.K Laurel 