High
above the low lying clouds I stand breathing in the misty fog and expelling it unchanged.
Unaware of the means of my arrival, I am here nonetheless. I stand chilled to
the bone atop the silent ooze of misty clouds within which the jagged tips of
forgotten peaks protrude through this withered, windy, precipitous precipitation
in a watery, grey unforgiving land. Sloshing and stumbling downwards through
the mud, enveloped in fog, I come upon a round sphere which upon cleaning
reveals itself to be a crystal and illuminating itself at my touch shows a
vision of myself safe and comfortable, fast asleep in my bed.
Jim
Jan. 2021
** Photo courtesy of Steve Fisher**
No comments:
Post a Comment