The Light is On

Thoughts, Stories, The Poem

Fog Over Paradise

This is the fog that hangs over paradise

across a land where music plays without a source

floating away to find waiting ears and lure them

drag them on a gentle wind over the wasteland

and throw their bodies into a bloody river

And they go with a smile on their face

the song of the wind on their lips

and the voice of a thousand wanderers

who came to their journey’s end at this edge

built a city on a cliff-drop to the sea

and stood waiting for the coming of the storm

so they could tear it down and fall away into the sky

—

I’ve never been cliff jumping. I have a feeling I would freeze up when I got to the edge. Maybe I’d be able to push myself over, or maybe not. With anything extreme like that, I usually find that it’s not so bad once it’s been done, so I might!

—

Photo by Johannes Plenio from Pexels

Mitchel David Ring

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14 responses to “Fog Over Paradise”

    • Thank you!! That’s a fair position to take on cliff jumping. I sort of had the chance, but I stayed in the water looking up at the cliff rather than climbing up and looking down. I don’t mind heights, but throwing myself off them might be a different story.

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      • I feel the exact same way! I don’t have a fear of heights; I have a fear of not knowing whether or not I’ll get hurt -if- I fall. Same reason why I don’t like rollercoasters.

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