These useless days (trying to make the most of time)

So it didn't snow after all
But before dawn two grassblades
Stroked my ceiling, calligraphy
From the lemon light streets
And my slatted blind.
I suddenly awoke and felt
The years pouring through me,
My future obsolescence, I saw
What was wrong and right, 
Where I'd been and where 
I should have gone wrong.
The silence spoke to me,
Just my body in a room,
In the middle of the years.
Such strange years -
Everything alive
And everything possible.