The Beauty Of The Fog Poem by Jim Yerman

We went on a hike to the top of a mountain…on a morning still sprinkled with dew…
anticipating all the way up..and once at the top..we were in for some wonderful views.

We knew we would see forever…in the sky…high above the pines
but the more we walked..the more we realized nature had other designs.

A fog rolled in…obstructing our view….covering the land surrealistically
so we focused on what was in front of us…all the things we were able to see…

We saw the beauty of the fog…the way it moves…how to the trees and mountains it clings.
We noticed how, even in the fog, flowers bloom and birds continue to sing.

We watched at times the fog soar up and other times crawl across the trees…and we wondered does the breeze control the fog or does the fog control the breeze.

We felt the fog roll over us…like ghosts floating through the air
leaving behind a bit of dampness…on our clothes…on our hands…in our hair.

We noticed that moisture on the flowers and plants…making them shine as it helps them to grow…we saw how the fog in the distance…covered the land like a blanket of snow…

We noticed there was magic in the fog…magic we never knew…
turning trees into magicians as they faded in…and then out of our view.

We found more magic in a large rock surrounded by rose petals…
and although the ceremony was through…
we imagined a couple standing there…
smiling…both of them saying I do.

Yes…we went looking for beauty on the mountain….
we had a certain kind of beauty in our heads…
but unable to see the beauty we came for…
we found our beauty in the fog instead.