Today, a similar foggy misty day, but my feelings today have been diametrically opposite to the feelings expressed in this poem, written Apr.25, 2011. I am optimistic and forward looking, a shift that surprises and pleases me.
Fog Warnings
A fog horn pushes through thin almost invisible haze
There must be deeper denser fog on the water
My mind has no fog horn
I see clearly with my eyes
but my mind is sluggish,
trapped by an invisible fog
floating around and through me.
There is no wind
Morning calm and quiet
Only a voice or two floats over water bright fence
distant conversation draped limply in moist still air
Flat gray clouds are high
Memories of rain dot garbage cans, car and asphalt
Walking in tall green grass
my red clogs shine with watered down dew
birds are still, save for a lone tweet tweet on silent air
a pear tree full of blossoms
waits for sun to dry fragile white petals.
I should breathe deep and feel the calm inside of me
instead I feel as suspended as the moist air
holding my breath and clutching my heart
I was already clutching at my heart when this day came
this day that is like so many others
on this beautiful island so full of danger
earthquakes frighten me, but the gray quietness
of these early mornings frightens me
more than the devastation and loss from earthquakes
Carl Sandburg -
‘the fog comes on little cat feet.
It sits looking over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.'
but the fog in my brain
creeps in on giant cougar feet.
ready to pounce and tear me limb from limb
and on these days I feel
defenseless and confused
Where do I turn
When do I turn
Should I turn
it is in these days that any purpose
seems as useless as dew on grass
My only purpose must be in this moment
My pen scratching over the page.
"Derive happiness in oneself from a good day's
work, from illuminating the fog that surrounds us."
- Henri Matisse
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