Mist



Photo by Matt

The sky he cries, over the sea;
Weeps against the windows of her ocean vessel,
"Let me in, let me see."
The wind stings her panes with his tears
In a sharp downward slant.
Water seeps in through the cracks.
The glass cries on both sides.
He presses for answers.
"Why does she mourn?"
But she has no use for words.
She is an enormity of wind, water, and mystery.
His cloudy mist covers
And hovers over
Her damply hidden depths;
Still her secrets remain her own.
While he does not know her sorrows
He knows well her grief
And they whisper together soul to soul
In the midst of the mist
'Til barely can be distinguished sky from sea,
Blue gray from steel green.