driving through the fog
everything is gray and vague
nothing clear
or sharp or definite
sitting in the fog
looking at the window at gray
at an impressionist world
that I can create in my own mind
out of my own heart and memory
how much of life is really lived
in the sharp clarity of the sun
where things are black and white
and kodachrome
brilliant and clean
but rigid and unchangeable
and how much is lived
in the murky world
where sacred
opens up our minds
and hearts
and allows us to create
solutions
even worlds
we never
dreamed of
before
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