The mist

The mist hugs the mountains

She glides south from her warm north

dropping rain

caressing branch

leaf

tree

She is water, she is life.

Shrouding the unseen

holding what is meant to be beneath

And what will emerge in the sunnier day

I gaze and gaze at this

passing beauty

at her heaviness, light as cloud

at her mysterious movement

like a stalking beast

almost upon it’s prey

And like a blanket for my

exposed heart

a soothing cool cloth

for a hot wound

She, the mist of these mountains

is thus and will continue

to show me more as I

sit still and will my

attention more deeply

upon

her