Tuesday, February 7, 2017
Monday Meditation: The Fog Hits
Fog was thick tonight
So thick that you wondered if you should just stop
But then stopping might mean getting hit.
This is what it is was like.
I finally understood.
History books are clear,
They knew all along,
And we smile centuries later with the contentment of time security.
But this is thick fog
With the occasional house light,
or the blaring oncoming fog lights,
language masking the futility.
This is a sudden bicyclist-
The sudden bicyclist who appeared in the street out of nowhere!
And brakes hitting just quickly enough
The cursing relief of having trusted my gut
to slow down
to look out
to navigate the road by gut.
This is the sigh of relief
And the moments to see little feet in their bed
to hold the dog
that "right" is in the fog,
in the promise to return home
to little feet
to furry bodies
to an integrity of soul;
Knowing they will nod one day
Imagining themselves to be each of us
or nodding with disapproval, smiling with security wondering...
how did it happen
And the survivors whose sight was taken
Will try to teach once more
The fog is always thick
Your eyes are insufficient
You must drive