Tomorrow Comes for the Unknown

I enjoy the mist.

Poetry and Prose

I enjoy the mist.

Image generated by author using Bing Image Creator

There’s a symmetry in life, but I can’t see it. 
I have to step away into the ocean, far beyond the shore.
I reach out from that space and grasp nothing.
Only then can I understand.

What is it that whispers in my ear?
I see the full faces of the past return,
but not to me. They return for the new ones,
the young ones, the round pegs in square holes.

I look upon the faces of those yet to come
and see bright days ahead, but the pain remains.
Aging brings wisdom. Youth brings learning.

Slippery slopes of silence steal my soul and
memories meet my mind in time.

Time takes time most of the time.
Sometimes, time tries too hard. 
Sometimes, we don’t focus on what matters most. 
Instead, we focus on foolish follies.

One, Dao; Two, Ying and Yang; Three, the ten thousand things.
Never seeing or controlling anything it controls. 
Yet, who controls anything?

Does the bird control his flight? 
Does he control the dynamic shape of his wings? 
Does he control the force of lift? 
He only takes advantage of what is.

I want to know what will be and what’s to come
by knowing what happened.
To each their own, they say, so I say let it rain. 
Let it shine until tomorrow is clear, hot, 
and sticky like a tabletop near the ocean shore.

Let it pour and pool until I tread water. 
Let it drown my future in a dark and hazardous mist.
I revel in the unknown and enjoy the haze. 
Tomorrow comes again.