The fog has ascended down on the path laid out before me.
My feet continue with their bouncy forward stride.
I take one step at a time.
So does the fog – she appears to be sliding forward,
one step at a time.
No matter how fast, slow, powerful, weak, large, or small I may be,
it appears we are moving in two separate planes that can never meet.
She moves – I move.
Forward, back, left, right.
I stop – she stops.
moving in perfect harmony.
Yet they never touch.
She bestows the blinding gift.
I cannot see clearly the path unfolding ahead of me.
But that’s ok,
My heart leads the way,
no matter how denser and thicker she gets.
My core is much denser than that of a finicky fog.
When I stand still – you stand still.
When I move forward – you begin to move on.
Yet, we never meet.
I gaze toward the sky,
the sun appears from behind the clouds.
The light so penetrating, so bright.
And the fog – puff – the fog is gone and I carry on.
But wait – there’s a twist to my story.
While there is still fog,
what happens if I jump higher,
glide above you,
just like the sun glides above the clouds?
I rise above you like the birds rise up towards the sky.
When I fly above,
you seem to stand still.
Yes, that does the trick.
All I need is to grow my wings so I can fly.
Fog is fluid, just like water.
Fog moves, it’s light, just like the wind and the air.
Light, liquid, contained within a certain frame.
It appears when the condition is right,
it disappears when the sunlight starts to shine.
I can move above you, but I cannot move through you.
I make a step forward, backward, to the left, to the right.
You continue dancing with me.
We appear to be in perfect harmony,
yet we never meet.
Two dimensions that cannot collide or intertwine.
Almost – but never.
So it is in the lower planes,
where the fog appears to rule the way.
Hence, I choose to rise above,
I remind myself:
‘You have the wings,
no need to wait,
you can leap above this fog and fly.’
I climb the mountain,
I rise above the valley,
I choose to move toward the sun,
away from the frail, blinding, foggy veil.
Sitting on the top of the mountain,
on my favorite rock,
under a tree,
above the fog,
in the planes where the sun shines brighter,
I remember how I used to dance when I was in the fog.
I recollect: ‘What was that drama all about?’
I smile, let go, and gracefully accept.
Come and visit me sometime!
To the planes beyond the fog’s domain,
the place where the sun shines day out, day in.
you are free to choose and stay wherever it is you may,
there is no higher or lower plane for the sun rays.
They can reach everywhere to clear the foggy ways.
As they say – ‘All paths lead to Rome.’
Your choice, your life, your dance, your destiny.
I gladly came here to reach out my hand to my beloved friend.
Time’s up, let’s fly away.