Fog and Sunny Days

There’s that fog again
Just beyond the gate
Across the meadow and seeping into the lake

Or is it a bit of life I imagine?
Like a kite beyond your vision –
Its line is all that’s seen – yet fastened to your dream

The fog is sometimes high,
Enough… to hide your kite
A tug on the line will confirm its flight

Now the fog is lifted by some unknown wind
Perhaps mankind divides his life
Like the line between love and hate

Over through the meadow
Daisies sway…as if to say
Frolic here with me

A key to life’s projection
The light of day begins to thin
The blindness to life’s perfections

One by one the daisies slow their hither calling
To turn their heads to sunlight
And still their indecision

That line of love that meets the fog of indecision
Will all but evaporate
In the heat of hateful decision

The meadow leads to a riverbank
Where a serpent spews evil venom
Love is the prey of the hateful predator

The line creates a thick and blurring vision
But the light of day burns the fog away
Then sweet and fragile love will live another day

That misty line never quite disappears
It lingers in my soul and we must never intensify it to reappear
We cling to it with bittersweet compulsion

The worst and best of life is tangled like
The Bittersweet - beyond the bank
And higher than the river

Is this relationship of fog and mist?
A bittersweet rendition
Of how we are forced to live

In passing from the meadow to the gate
Not a day will pass without the tangle of the
Bittersweet in the meadow path

A foggy pit of tangles - to your legs
Will scar your surface meat
But you will make it to the gate

Look at the gate and time in balance
I detest the meadow loneliness
The fog can be a playful place without love or hate

Life like a line - strung so tight
Questioning will it ever break
To be flung across the river and through the meadow gate

Look across the river now
The sun plays ripples and dances on the shore
The bittersweet is mesmerized by the winds beyond the gate

The Fog moves in and settles down
The Sun will burn it from within
As Love will master hate for all who open the gate.

david freemont mccready's picture

David was born in the middle of the great depression in semi rural Pennsylvania. Those times influenced his perception of reality. Even today, after raising his own family, austerity has a lingering effect on his work. Over the years he and his family have resided on the East and West Coasts., now retired to his birth site. There is much to say in detail; however, in the grand grasp of time David has been devoted to innovations in science literature and history. Music to David held a source great personal accomplishment, as a performer on piano and bass violin. When asked about science David will respond about quantum theory and man’s eternal relevance to the cosmos. A favorite poet, Robert Frost, and a favorite painter, Winslow Homer, contribute to David’s style in the same discipline. When asked about history, David will tear down the current revisionist propaganda propagated by the unspoken agenda of academic ideology. D.Freemont paintings and literary works are from mind to canvas believing that copies, will interfere with the mind’s eye.

Last updated October 07, 2022