Returning.

Wet asphalt, rhythmically pounded by
tire tread, raindrop, tire tread, raindrop.

Red highway brake lights, occasional impatient horns sounding,
and a broken radio forcing me to realize I have become
uncomfortable with morning commute silence inside my worn car.

Gray - cubicle, sky, carpet, reflection. As if my eyes
protect themselves from the harsh unnatural fluorescence
by dimming everything that passes into my line of sight.

Office politics, deadline-determined anxieties,
an unsettling panic that this is all there is - and it is not enough.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Calm.

Gently floating in on an easy current, a recognition of
the inherent power contained in a single choice.

Happiness - it is up to me.
No one else.
Independent of circumstance or any external force.

Available, here and now.
For the choosing.

Significant.

And enough.