One Orbital Cycle

This year,
Last year,
Next year.
Is a human construct. 
Which in the long run means nothing
The only difference between today
And tomorrow
Is the numbers with which we document time. 
But what if.
No wait, here me out.
As our minds spin and we orbit each other
The planets spin and orbit each other.
Our solar system spins and they orbit each other,
Turning on an axis
Teatering on a thought
Tripping on the moondust. 
And so a year is only an orbital cycle
A smudge mark on a white circle
A neon sign on the highway,
A black cap and gold scroll on a stage.
But what if.

Wha if it actualy means an end and a begining?
I prefer it this way.
Though its only an orbital cycle.
This orbital construct we've created,
The longitutde and latitude
The random sharpie mark in the universe 
I don't know how it got there-
How it signifies the end of a turn-
But it does.
The begining of a new spin
Of us spinning.
And its a comfort.
Its a hope.
A what if
Perhpas I'm too human to grasp
That the planets keep spining as always,
That we keep orbiting and dont actualy have a smudged mark
No pause for a burst of confetti.
That our counting is juvinial
Our feelings of a new begining trivial with the new orbit.
Perhaps I'm too human to understand
That a day before or after an orbit means nothing,
That the rigid schism is but imaginary
Its powers of new and old
But a blip in the soupy universe.​
A random point of reference that means nothing.
But I don't care,
What if