The Fog

November 7, 2017

We wake up on this side of eternity,

Bleary-eyed and tangled in dawn

Sunlight seeps through curtain gaps, illuminating cracks in walls

An unwelcome visitor

We squeeze our eyes shut in the name of freedom,

That elusive thing

 

But bird melodies tear through the morning

Foggy mist tumbles back up to its source

Leafy branches tremble in the wind

River water surges toward the sea

 

Eventually we arrive

Cold and barefoot,

At the edge of the world

 

Borders of the map too small to contain the wonder,

Chests too small to hold wandering hearts

So we press our faces to the window,

anxious to see beyond the rim of reality.

But our breath fogs up the glass

And we catch only a glimpse of a glimmer of an outline

Of moving shapes and muted colors

 

But a strange and steady hope flickers on

That someday the fog will clear

And the dawn will always be

And the river will meet the sea

And the sunlight seeping through closed curtains will no longer burn our sleepy eyes

 

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© 2018  Kelsey Cronin