Messages in the Mist
A poem
A poem
The fog envelops like a cloak,
a transient embrace.
Nature’s whisper wreathes around me,
evanescent eddies laced with mystery.
Vapours veil the landscape,
erasing the firm lines
between being and not.
Against this ephemeral canvas, imaginations manifest.
I discern shapes, and symbolism in the mist.
A ghostly feline form,
there one instant and gone the next.
A fleeting face emerges,
features blurring back into the haze.
Each temporary manifestation births
a multitude of meanings.
The thick haze captures light,
bending time and space.
This suspended state invites musings.
I contemplate what revelations lie cloaked,
await discovery beyond the gauzy greyness.
The mist speaks in wispy codes,
truths transient yet teasing.
Its language lingers on the skin,
half-remembered dreams dissipating upon waking.
I open myself to the mysteries,
seeking the insights swaddled within its delicate whorls.
To unveil all would be to shred the spell.
Some secrets are best unspoken.