Quiet Morn

Poetry by The Irrational Sage

Dense fog looms over a clover lake
The ambient mood seeps into view
Syrupy tears drip from tree leaves
The tackiness coats a passerby
Tactile skin glistens in its dampness
Stillness gives way for earth to grieve
She’s moisturized with sorrow
Heavenly clouds sent down a veil of haze
To cover everything like a transient blanket
Nature transformed into humidifier
No one can see what lies ahead
Breath is encumbered in heaviness
Views are compacted into solidarity
Nature’s ambient aura reveals itself
Everything that is becomes subdued
An atmosphere of Quietness sits
While somberness evaporates
Taking away transmuted pain
Teardrops carried in raindrops
The picture of doom, purified
No longer obscured, but cleansed
From picture to pitcher
pouring love into pores
in the vapor of a Quiet Morn….the mourning came…and went.

(The Fog was thick this morning (3-9-26)…moody morning photo from the porch.)