tour de azraelle…

the fog
is thickest
at
the beginning
of the journey
like
a warm blanket
of
innocence
concealing
all the perils
that
may be there
so
fear
isn’t
felt
instead
the blindness
fosters
an excitement
for the trip
like
all of childhood
for
one sees
so many
paths
that may be taken
heightening
a sense
of
adventure
into
the unknown
all things then
are
possible
so
a path
is
chosen
and
the ascent
from the valley floor
begins
leaving behind
that childhood blanket
of
innocence
as
the foothills
are reached
the fog begins
to clear
still vision
is impaired
oh on occasion
a strong breeze
like
a sudden death
clears the path
defining for a moment
what lies ahead
however
it is only 
a brief foresight
then the climb
continues
into the haze
of each day
laboring
to rise above the fog
hours like years
seem to pass
before the timberline
has been reached
then
eyes and vision
becomes aware
of
the dangers
on the trail
and
those all around
one marvels then
at the beauty of life
but
feels a sense
of sadness
for
not seeing
what was before
along the journey
but
the climb continues
to the tundra
the grandeur of the trees
now replaced
by barren earth
with only
low-to-ground plants
standing
like tombstones
now the path narrows
there is
no
turning back
no
fog
just
the trails
end