The Morning Mist: A Poem by Seema Jain

With the footsteps of the winter approaching on tip-toe

My passionate heart finds resonance, now going fast now slow

Ever since my childhood, I have always felt a pull

Towards cool misty mornings, so enchanting and beautiful

Everything all around seems to wear an opaque garment

What lies behind this hazy veil fills you with such wonderment

The trees, the houses, the roads, the lamp posts all touched with a magic stick

Play hide and seek, now visible,  now doing the vanishing trick

As a kid, I used to love the steam coming out of my mouth

When I let out my breath and saw it drift to the south

Cycling my way to college on the misty winter morning

With the hazy pathways, and dark mysteries its all corners adorning

The progressing years in no way have diminished my crazy fancy

The inscrutable misty charisma is as deep as in my infancy

Now when I go for a relaxing walk on a morning wrapped in mist

Those precious memories of yesteryears as a song-dance on my lip

Oftentimes I  ask myself as I am filled with wonder 

After all, what treasure do these sights and sounds do render

But no clear answer does emerge from my heart's recesses

The mysterious touch of a misty morning soothes like a mother's caresses.