Regret
It is Written:
“The Gift is the Blessing of the Giver”
What frigid wind
Blows through our souls
When eternity reaches out
To us
What blessing
Or curse
For mortals
Who know
For only fleeting
Moments
The marvelous Gift
Of life
And that Gift
Spent, wasted
Daily discarded
Without
Thought of love
For another
Or remembrance
Of the Giver
Of all Blessings.