Trees shrouded in the morning mountain mist
That wafts mysteriously, elegantly to pick out
Straight, mottled trunks that turn elevated, dew laden leaves
Into a translucent, miasmic, dreamlike whole.
Fantasy fetches petite fae, mystic creatures living there unseen.
Opaque lacy wings flitting silently ‘neath low lying ferns.
Until the sunlight, softly employed to dismiss the mist,
Must discharge creatures of imagination from mind’s eye.
A human soul, speeding by enwrapped in sturdy steel,
Sends out an unheard, mournful cry
Amidst this tranquil, elegant, majestic scene.
A wish for peace, a soul at rest. Pure magic. Calm.