Lost at sea

It is Difficult to see
What is behind my back
On this rare foggy day of summer.
I am stick on the present
and in the lack of memory of this grey cloud.
The direction is list for a moment
But the lighthouse is always on
Out there.

Out of the fog

Treasures are rarely measured
In weight or currency
And finding them is all
but a waste of energy.
I walk away with empty hands
and a book full of lessons and experiences.
Those words spent in a rush
With no intended importance
In an unplanned setting
Are the ones I will remember
And I will be grateful for
When my road will be clear
From this light -absorbing fog.

Fog

White thick fog surrounds me
In my circular walk
looking for silence and solitude.
My batteries recharge
And the fog reminds me it’s the season of rest.
In the fog I hide my fears, my worries and my inadequacies
as no reason I have to keep them.

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