The Mist Looks Lovely On the Mountains Today

The rain, from a distance, Grey lines hinting existence, Falling on faces of jagged risen earth, A moment to remember; worth, As the mist looks lovely on the mountains today. A moment to remember, when all was still calm When my worries were only worries, And she didn’t skirt what could have been me writing a lamenting psalm, As the rain looks lovely on the mountain in flurries. Daily, second to second, moment to moment, jiffy to jiff, The world spins on, whether you rise or fall from the cliff. Carefully careful is not enough In a world that demands you be “impossitough” “The rain looks lovely” is still the right phrase, still the right stuff. It can be lost, what is firmly in your grasp It can be stolen, from God’s or Earth’s wrath. It’s just a wink, a blink, a crash, a lightning bite from an asp, Or a young kid not seeing a proper path. Even so, the mountain looks lovely in its rain-washed bath. Constant is worry, always poisoned by the fear, That the one I love the most will be taken far when I need her near. And just the threat had me in manic anxiousness, an easy place to steer, But the mountains wouldn’t look as lovey without the mist; if they were clear. Always always The world is unbalanced Wants to be upside down turned Still we run these hallways With muddled mid-sense Waiting for the moment, we are finally burned, And the scale tips The car flips But the mist looks lovely on the mountains today.