The breeze felt biting with winter’s scorn,

fresh snow would now paint the landscape.

In his mind, he wondered about next steps,

would it be easier to fall back on the pain.

If life were measured simply in hours,

would we be so fortunate to bottle our time.

There’s a sensory feel with fresh air,

gives credence to the burdens we bear.

Exhilarating as that hour might become,

a reminder that always we can find reward.

Passion is our meaning.