When Your Heads in the Fog

2008-07-15 05:58:30.000 – Mike Finnegan,  IT Observer

Patience, young grasshopper.

I’ve been told sometimes my head’s in the fog,
And after weeks like this, I just sit there and nod.
There’s no use denying it, we all get a bit crazy
When life passes like the weather, more than a little hazy.

The grayness can get to you…at least let it storm.
Rolling thunder, flashing lightening to brighten up the morn.
There’s no chance for the sun – been playing hide and seek for days.
Even the moon is temperamental, hoarding reflected rays.

Wet rain and wet fog, slick rocks and green lichen.
In winter they’re covered; treacherous now is the hiking.
So you curl up inside – sit, write, and read.
May as well expand your mind – it’s the only horizon you’ll see.

And so gray turns to black as day turns to night.
You hope and you plead for a change from this sight.
Then all of a sudden your wishes come true.
The clouds open up, starlight falls upon you.

You rejoice for a second, and in another it’s gone.
It’s an ephemeral nature, perhaps less so by dawn.
But the faint smell of dandelions brings hope to the air
And the memories of childhood, life without a care.

The Earth rolls over and dawn paints the sky red,
The fog nestled in the valley, wind caressing the sedge
And little pink clouds drift just out of reach
While the rain ate the snow on the Jefferson Beach.

And as all things must do, the fog came to an end.
With blue sky and sun light, our spirits will mend.
So the sun will go down, rising again once more
As we will go down, to the green valley floor.

Mike Finnegan,  IT Observer