When there is a light fog and a mist for rain,
I often wish I had the time to seat myself under a tree.
And when a breeze swept through the leaves of that tree,
I'd become the victor of of all my battles.
While under the branches, I'd stare out,
Visible to friends,
Unclear to strangers,
Camouflaged to all foe.
I would not be be questioned or dwelled upon.
The breeze would stop,
The mist would diminish,
The fog would lift along with my spirits.
I'd sit up, take a deep breath and continue on my journey.
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