It will tell you it lives in the past, unfixable.
It will tell you relief is in the future,
In do-overs, apologies, and making amends.
But regret, like all things, is a flavor of now.
It is as immediate as a heartbeat,
As near as our own face.
It is the burning of the heart’s wick
and the melting of its wax.
Regret is a dying wish from the past
Begging us to release our desperate grip
On a memory, as real now as an imagination or a dream.
Regret is a present-moment dread with no solution
and no solution required.
It is an invitation
to learn, let go, and live.