Will today be the day?

Hope weighs heavy for the

one who exists in mist.

Never can you imagine

how /dragging hope can be.

When your mind can fly,

the sky is the limit.

Sometimes, floating in the clouds

can reveal the fall.

Pushing through the

harshest of winds.

Leaping through the pressure

towards the mountains tips.

Soaring over imaginary,

practical depths.

Coasting lower is often

and deeply tempting.

One desires the chance

to avoid harsh falls.

But drifting with the grass

hides the dancing horizon line.

We are stuck with the

clouds or the greeny path.

Living in the mist of

the sky or the hills.