There is a mist
As I wince
Mince my eyes
Into the day
Of jargon
I cannot dispel this cloud
That looms over me
Nor do I wish too
For I find comfort
In the midst of droplets
Of feeling
Tender feelings
Of caring
And sharing of thought
My world
With others
In the mist
I see
What was unseen
In the blaze
On my temples burning
With focus
The mist
Is a cherished thing
When you are alone
With your thoughts
To create
New creatures
Of enlightenment
I create
My own mist
Despite the light
Having descended upon me
And I arise
My words
Into worlds
Swirling about my free form
Floating head
Ahh the mist
Spring of amplitude
Positions to be explore
A conjurer’s nightmare
Or glory
Of succession
I give my prayer
Palms down
To be in the midst
Of misting

%d bloggers like this: