“A poem is the very image of life expressed in its eternal truth.”
Percy Bysshe Shelley

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

You See Me …

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Fog#mediaviewer/File:AchdammSport.JPG

Emerge from the fog
seemingly capable of
resuming my life.

With my game face on,
I stumble forward across
the vanishing mist.

Unbeknown to me,
another front approaches.
And so it goes on.

6 comments:

Josè Antonio said...

I´m not see you in the fog but I feel you in your words

Muffie said...

I know what you mean. I've become quite wary during my 'good' times. Often I'll become complacent, trying hard to believe I may get better. Then my smugness turns to disappointment when the next 'bad' time hits!

Gail said...

Hi Judy - a never ending light to darkness, fog to mist to sun to rain to the next storm - I hide in the shadows and cover my eyes when I step out in to the light of reality.
Love Gail
peace.....

Judy said...

Josè Antonio, thank you for being able to feel what I try to communicate with my words.

Muff, it's a constant adjusting process, isn't it? As in, who am I now?

Gail, yes, I'm familiar, too, with that space behind the hand covering the eyes. :)

Karen said...

I rarely put on the game face anymore, but I am always happy when I emerge from the fog, if only for a short while.

Judy said...

Karen, I'm happy to emerge, too, and I do my best to not start counting the seconds until the fog descends again; instead, being grateful for the good moments while I have them.