The Fog
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