The Fog

It rolls in
sometimes, without warning
like the moments in our lives
Vision blocked
sometimes, completely
dense, wet, solid
Other times, moments of clarity
pure, bright, translucent.
Sometimes, you can see
where you are
but, not where you're going
or where you've been
Sometimes, fog is comforting
it surrounds us
like a blanket of protection.
Other times, it's scary
disorienting
like being in a maze without a map
or the dark of night
without a light.
But, as fast as it rolls in,
it rolls out.
Often, it dissipates
with the light and heat of the sun,
as if only the brightest light
can help us see through the muck.
Sometimes, it lifts, but remains above us
like a warning, to be prepared for anything
or, like a shield, keeping us safe below.
Sometimes, it's just beside us or behind us
or just beyond
like it's not for us
but necessary for us to see.
The fog can make someplace so familiar
foriegn
And someplace foriegn
intimate.
Fog is water
life-sustaining
emotional
cleansing
it creates
and destroys
a juxtaposition of opposites
like the moments in our lives
sometimes, without warning
but, beautiful.