Unbeholden

Fog hangs heavy over the highway,
draped like the cloak of some god
unbeholden to time.
For how strangely it keeps me in the present –
I drive perpetually into a startling newness.
As though memory and foresight were concepts lurking just beyond comprehension,
I cannot see what lies ahead,
or know exactly what it is I left behind.
Headlights flash into existence.
Taillights turn left or right,
disappear into the fog,
and my eyes can only follow for so long.
They vanish
like interrupted threads of thought,
or memories lost to time,
or possible futures forever altered by one conversation.
How heavy the fog hangs in the valley today,
but I do not wish it would burn away.
No, I would stay enveloped in this mystery,
in the startling newness of its self perpetuation.
Here, where neither regret nor foreboding can find me.
Here, alone and present.
I know the sun is still out there
– still looking for me.
For I see the opaque droplets of the mist
now shimmer with slivers of gold,
and know I must soon return
to the wholeness of existence
– the vast expanse of the blue sky.
The warmth of the sun will recall my hopes and my old sorrows,
and together we will cast long shadows as I drive home.