Into The Mist ~ Walt Page, The Tennessee Poet

As I walk deeper into the forest
on a cloudless, moonlit night,
I can see fog developing ahead of me
As I get closer it was become a fine mist,
not quite a fog yet
but I can sense it coming.
I felt an overpowering urge
to look behind me.
As as I turned,
the mist had thickened and darkened,
and I could not see my outstretched hand.
I felt a slight dizziness
and turned back to look ahead.
Ahead of me was still just a fine mist
I couldn’t go back
because the fog was too thick.
I came upon a fallen tree
and stopped to rest.
As I sat down on the log
I heard the heavenly music of the night.
Somehow I knew I was safe here.
I don’t know why,
just an overpowering safe feeling.
As my eyes refocused
I could see shapes forming in the mist.
I soon recognized my Mom & Dad,
my Grandma & Grandpa Page,
My Grandma & Grandpa Lindsay,
Aunts, Uncles and Cousins.
My Grandfather Page took my hand
and in his deep voice I heard him say,

“It is not your time yet Walter,
but we wanted you to see
that we are all here to welcome you
when your time does come.
You will be happy here Grandson,
so go now and live the rest of your life.
Keep doing the good work of your Poetry
and keep helping others. We are
always with you and will keep you safe.”

Suddenly, the moon was shining, with no no mist,
no fog. I smiled and knew that
everything was and would be OK.
I turned back and followed the moonlit
path back home to continue writing
my poetry. I had been blessed that night
and knew that I was OK. When my time does come,
I will now welcome it. I know my family
will be there to greet me and welcome me home.

~The Tennessee Poet~
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