Bound Within the Fog

Today, the mountain across the lake is gone….
Hidden from sight by heavy fog,
Low clouds draped across its shoulders,
Blue sky above invisible as well.

Are birds divorced as well from sun?

Do they fly high yet still not see but shrouded Earth,
As angels sometimes must when letting go,
Soaring home upon a prayer in rain or fair?

For now, I will rest content not to see,

To wait with simple creatures such like me,
Closed off to sight of sun or moon or stars,
Hemmed in among neglected places,
Finding what I cannot see in brighter day.

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