Shane Zhao Poet Free verse

Plunging Through 17-03-26

Mist descends like an apparition upon the hills,
pinching every blade of grass and barren branch between its fingers.
It's omnipresent- 
seeping into every crevice and tunnelling under doorframes, 
filling the gap between the Earth and Heavens.

I wander within the mist.
It's light- almost as light as the air,
and yet somehow it so completely smothers 
the overhead roar of New Year's fireworks.

This year I've shouted with passion, cried without hope;
I've stared disconsolately and smiled in sincerity.
This year, spring was fleeting and summer rushed by in panic;
autumn left in blazing trails,
leaving only winter's arms dangling around my neck.

Though I knew this mist must form,
for the sky is never as warm as the Earth,
I cannot help but implore "How much longer will this last?"
or, quieter, "How much more can I endure?".

But what is the price of stopping
if not the world?

I am reminded that life was not meant to be lived
like that of a beached whale
proud only in its size compared to the grains of sand,
nor was it to be spent despairing over one's insignificance-

No. It is to ascend the highest peaks,
to brush the void above the snowcaps;
It is to see the world and in it see myself,
to dive deep in the ocean and swoop between the clouds.

So let the past year crumble.
Even as last spring, summer and autumn vanish,
let winter's chilling hands take us by the waist
and sweep us forward into the storm.

Fear not;
it cannot contain us.
The sun will rise
and the mist 
will lift.

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