A Walk in the Mist

BY CAROLE NICHOLS


I feel the pull from a distant place,
As I move into the cloudy mist;
It swirls round my feet, hides my path,
Brushes my cheek as if lightly kissed.

I feel I should be frightened,
For I can't see what waits me there;
Yet, I cannot turn, it's as if I'm held,
Trapped in the shadow of some special lair.

The air, still and heavy, weighted by fog,
Touches me with a cool, damp tongue;
Carries the echo of some waiting wolf,
Who'll devour my soul when the trap is sprung.

Yet for all the eerie sense of time,
My heart is steady as I'm pulled to that place;
For I feel what awaits is the rest of my life,
And I yearn to step into it's sweet embrace.

Still, I do go slowly, feeling my way,
A walk in the mist to some unknown shore;
Eyes open and searching to find some sign,
Of the wolf who waits at heaven's door.