My London Fog

Like a London fog
Sadness settles in
Clouding my view  
A vapor soft and heavy,

It’s grey …

And the yellow umbrella I carry 
Can’t seem to make it go away 

So I stop my walking 
And sink into 
A cold wet bench
Taking in the all the hues 
Slate, charcoal and dark grey-blue
I lift my eyes and 
Catch a drop of rain 
Or two.

Instead of wishing it away,
Courage rises
And I shake my hands at the grey,
“Ok… What is it that you have to say?”

And all the while my hair gets drenched  
Water drizzles into
The crooked creases on my face 
My wrinkles become rivers
And tiny tributaries for my tears 
Mixing wet into wet

It pours…

Until, I can’t tell the difference anymore. 
I catch my breath and sigh.

All I know is that it’s time 
Time… to make friends, 
With this fog, this rain
To accept her presence 
And embrace her ways 

She is leading me on a path 
Toward a knowing and
A holding
A releasing and
An owning 

She is taking me 
A different way,  
To a quiet heart and 
A more peaceful day.

The acceptance and the wrestle 
Are the path through
The means by which 
My skies will become blue.

So today, London Fog,
My familiar friend 
I am going to
Sit with you
Until the tears end. 

And when
The clouds break 
And the sun shines through,
The grey goes away 
And my skies become blue 

Joy will return  
And my broken be made new,

For finally, and 
At last  
I have made peace 
With you.

Isaiah 51:11

Those the Lord has rescued will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away.

Jeremiah 31:13

I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.