Popping up you declare,
“Daddy it’s foggy outside!”
and in your moment of wonder
I wish that I could shrink every
Emotion, interaction and judgment.
Now I know what has been missing
All these bleak and cold months,
It is being sung amongst returning birds
Who are as bewildered as we
By this thick, white cloud.
Entering it we pretend that we walk
Amongst the clouds and that we
Might almost hear the divine’s voice.
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