Shifting of The Mist

A Poem by Malleabus

It is but for only a moment that one may hold a static view, for life inevitably changes and you inevitably react.

My love, do you remember that just a moment ago we sat here watching the birds go by, the squirrels scurry here and there; do you recall that but a brevity has passed since we gathered here for our morning meal and lost ourselves with such natural activities alive and passing before our contented eyes?
It must be fresh to your senses as it is to mine. For, I cannot recall the years that have transpired between then and now. Such duration seems but a hazy streak of color and indistinct impressions leading rapidly here.
I could swiftly be persuaded that a mist must have shifted, a mist whose substance held a vivid but tenuous image of such peacefull moments...such pleasent times.
My love, I sit here now alone. The birds still sing but they make no sound, the squirells still scurry though they seem more so to labor than to play. I rub my eyes as if to gain a focus but the scene does not change nor does my emptiness subside.
I know that now you suffer. I am aware of your tormenting pain. I wish so much that I could absorb the darkness which has devoured your laughter and made trembling your gaze.
More peacefull would my soul be if instead of you 'twas me. Oh, pain of pain, oh swelling of cruel darkness; could not another mist float by and seat us here again together.