Sun burns white hot
Through dissipating fog
Sets wildflowers ablaze
With its morning rays
Sonic beacon rendered mute
Its clarion calls to clarity
Invited cerulean hues
A day begun
In dour temper
Manifests its beauty
Tag: fog
On Beacons and Buttercups
Diffuse light in dispersing fog
Daisies, clover and buttercups
Stretch into morning
Pastel whispers from daylight skies
Beacon’s warning
Smothered by the mist
So she howls
Into unknowable voids
Lest any run astray
To foul upon the stone
This wall between
The land and sea
While daisies, clover and buttercups
Tremble in the breeze
Song to Silence
I wake in the mornings
Mind always in a foggy mist
To find, always
Like a whisper in the silence
Rising to become song
You are there
Nothing so rouses
My faded spirit
As your voice of grace
And compassion
Singing love to this soul
That’s lived in silence
The Bend
Big bend in the river comin’ up!
No idea what’s around it
Can’t even see the turn all that clear
Or what’s just ahead fer that matter
No matter
We done plenty a these
Always works out
Usually fer the better
I suppose there’ll be
Remarkable new things to discover
Around that corner
All kinds of possibilities
Don’t worry none about the fog
Things’ll be clear enough once we get close
Just the way the corner up ahead
Is gettin’ clear enough to know the turn
Kinda pretty idn’t it?
The way the fog only gives ya part a the picture
Then just the green
Then trees and the cracks in rocky cliffs
Ya only get enough to know how to move on
With some foreshadowin’
Of just how beautiful it’s gonna be
When it all becomes clear
Sight & Sound
Beacons complement
One to guide
One to illumine
The fog competes
Beacons diminished
So blares the horn
What those of the sea
Cannot see
They hear
Don’t stand too close!
patience
I came for sunrise
Woke early for
Golden hour glory
Instead, the fog
Cast a shroud
A pall upon the morning
Patience
The sun will out
And so it did
A moment, perhaps
More glorious
Than the moment sought
Expectation
Patience
Adaptation
Possibilities
A thought rises through the fog
Beautiful, perhaps
Or dangerous
Maybe both
As beauty and danger
Often are
Risk
The blade of possibility
Honed to fine edge
So that with a stroke
We may manifest the exquisite
Or sunder it
Whether through intent
Fortune or folly
The Fog
In the morning, the fog
Commuters fill the lanes
On their way into the city
They cannot see
But know too well
Commuters fill the lanes
On their way into the city
They cannot see
But know too well
It’s there
In the haze
Diminutive towers
Shadows beneath a piercing sun
As they are shadows
Piercing the shroud
Beneath a sky of mottled blue
In the evening rush there will be no misty cover
Crystalline clear; hard-edged architecture
Though the fog lays still upon commuters
The Fog of Pain
This story begins with Enveloped.
I wonder why she lingers
There
There
An hour or so
Every day
On the bench
By the shore
On the edge of the fog
I wonder why
But I think I know
That bridge has been enough trouble
For us
No
For me
Maybe just for me
Even before the fog
High Grounding
I climb up
Out of the fog
I see forever
But there is nothing to see
Only the fog
And the road which brought me here
Out of the fog
I see forever
But there is nothing to see
Only the fog
And the road which brought me here
Still, there is the blue sky
And the sun
I bask in its warmth
Smell the grass
Breathe the fragrant air
I remind myself
Fog is ephemeral
And there is always this high ground
Above the fog
Even if I can only reach it
By closing my eyes
And remembering this moment
Pix to Words 