Imperfect Prose on Thursdays

i wake to find the world wrapped in fog
cocooned

amazing how
like snow
it absorbs
all sound
holding everything
in its embrace

i marvel at how it reveals
mysteries and secrets
unknown
like the wizard boy hidden beneath his invisibility cloak
i walk
and
see

there are trails
vestiges of nocturnal meanderings
swirling in the grass like figure eights
and I can now see
the mystery
that my dog smells
every morning
in her frenetic way
she's not crazy
after all

but the greatest magic
falls
and
lands
on the spider webs
their beauty and exquisite choreography
now bejewelled with drops of
dew
heavy and swooning

all of this
it is always there

i
just
don't
see

amazing
to once be blind
but now
to
See

grace
falling
dripping
gilding
bedazzling

always