The
fog rises off the mirror of the lagoon,
a
slow breath drawn across quiet waters.
The
darkness moves without sound,
stretching
its shadows from shore to shore.
In
the silence, the heart keeps its own counsel,
bound
to what it has always needed,
untouched
by what remains hidden,
blinded
to what waits within the deep.
We
look out into the gray hush,
reaching
for shapes that refuse to form,
learning
to stand at the water’s edge
and
trust the unwritten path ahead.
Yet
the darkness cares less about what lies within,
and, beneath the stillness, the spirit cries out!
Thomas
Theophilus© October 2, 2026
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