The green of beauty was there
Until the mist slithers around
And hides what was seen.
Nature is a mystery
Unrolls its scroll slowly
As if not wanting to hurt
The hands with which it is held.
The mist though will be beautiful
Before it is kissed by warm air
That whispers a song singing
“Melt away. Morning thanks you. Day, noon, after and night truly love you.
If space unvoiced between trees scripting can’t connect the dots, only light can do.”
In no time the sun is rising,
Then the mist is missed.
That is how the story begins.—-
Thanks, Michael for allowing me to repost this picture to illustrate my verses. God bless you.
A Journey into Mist 4
rike jokanan 