Out Of The Fog Into The Light

I see…
The fog has ascended down on the path laid out before me.
My feet continue with their vigorous stride.

I take one step at a time.
So does the fog – she appears to be leading ahead,
one step at a time.
No matter how fast, slow, powerful, weak, large, or small I may be,
we are moving in two separate planes that can never meet.

She moves – I move:
forward, back, left, right.  
I stop – she stops.
Two dancers
moving in perfect harmony,
yet they never touch.

She bestows the blinding gift;
I cannot see the path unfolding ahead of me.

But that’s okay.
My heart leads the way,
no matter how much denser she gets.
My core is much more solid than the scattered 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,
and the sun appears from behind the clouds.
The light so bright is piercing through.
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,
rise above you,
like the sun glides above the clouds?

When I fly above,
you seem to stand still.
That does the trick!

All I need to do is grow my wings,
so I soar high above with grace and ease.

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 sliding away.
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 terrain.

Hence, I choose to rise above
and remind myself:
“You have the wings,
so there’s no need to wait for the sun.
You can leap above this fog and rise!”

So I climb the mountain,
I ascend above the hazy glen,
I choose to move toward the sun,
away from the frail, foggy trail.

Standing on the top of the mountain,
beside my favorite rock,
by the tree,
above the fog,
in the planes where the sun shines brighter,
I remember how I used to dance when I was in the misty dell

and recollect: “What was that drama all about?”
I smile, let go, and gracefully accept.

Come and visit me sometime!
To the planes beyond the murky vale.
the place where the sun’s radiance never fades.

You see,
you are free to choose and stay wherever it is you may.
There is no such thing as higher or lower planes for the sunrays.
They reach everywhere and clear the mist away…
‘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.

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