Misty Morning

Misty Morning

I sit in the brightening dawn as the sun makes its way.

The mist is heavy across the surface of the waters.

It is just not the vapor that I see, but millions of possibilities.

Brief fantasies in the wisps, if you will, in this half light and life.

Some seem so real; others disappear half formed, while others die.

In the coldness of our surroundings, like the mist, fantasies are formed.

The moisture feels good on my skin as a slight breeze caresses me,

It rejuvenates my body, just as fantasies refresh my soul and spirit.

The sun has risen during my revere, and its glare makes my eyes water.

I can stand it no more; I shut tightly my eyes against this reality.

The dampness upon my skin dries fast as the rays get ever hotter.

Slowly, I open my eyes and look at the water again.

Squinting at the surface, I am disappointed even knowing what I will see.

The vapor has all burned away to be replaced by the light of the sun.

Fantasies are the same; they are seared away in the light of reality.

This is a reminder that all fantasies even the impossible ones,

No matter how small it may be, are based on a possibility.

I know the moment is past, never to be the same again.

They both have their beauty and supply a need, but they are fleeting.

Each dies away as the days go on without the world noticing.

Know this what the mind can no longer see the heart will remember.

Reviews

[B]

Beautiful
But I believe fantasies come to life
Beautiful piece

[H.L. Cerveise]

Thank you and I agree some fantasies do come to life. It was a beautiful morning that day.