Blessing for When the Fog Lifts
by Cherie Westmoreland
When the light comes slowly on a fall morning,
and you awaken with a heavy heart,
there is a blessing waiting for you in the marsh.
Your sensuous body wants to take you outdoors
to feel the moist fog on your cheeks,
the cool wet seeping through your shoes,
wants to find its edges as the sharp cool
tells your arms about their shape,
and your ears tingle.
There is a blessing in the accompaniment all ‘round.
Chickadees and wrens.
Crows and woodpeckers.
Leaves shivering and grasses dripping.
Spiders hanging on webs of crystal orbs.
There is a blessing in the ways
that your quiet passing touches everything in its path,
always in relationship with the living, loving world.
There is a blessing waiting for you,
standing on the footbridge as the fog lifts.
The sky opens and the sun scatters jewels everywhere.
In that moment, you are.
And you are blessed.