A sigh echoes across the chasm
of the sullen winter afternoon.
I dissolve daydreams with regret
in the cozy confines of my room.

I shall never understand
how time has passed me by
yet stretches ahead, yawning.
I am not alive; I cannot die.

The flowers wilt into dust,
the fruit hangs rotten.
Lost amid conjured trepidation
a promise slumbers forgotten.

Once upon a dulcet time
each path was ripe for the picking.
Dreams sour if they cannot cross
over to the land of the living.

I waste so much time
rueful of the time I wasted.
Every opportunity I missed,
each victory I never tasted.

The winter light warms my face
as I lie in bed, brooding.
The lump in my throat melts away;
my solitude turns soothing.

I savour the lightness of being
incomplete but whole.
If I can’t get that one epic win,
holistic hedonism is my goal.

Drop by drop, every tiny delight
I will use to fill this mighty ocean.
Whatever makes me happy,
I shall do with utmost devotion.

I smile and spring out of bed
as the sun dips below the horizon.
Stretch and switch on the lights
as I make my way to the kitchen.

The future is intangible –
the big picture I cannot yet see.
But today I shall take comfort
in woolly socks and hot coffee.