Posted in Poetry

Mist

You cannot walk away from the mist

It has eyes

And it has arms

Everywhere

Wrapping around

Each footstep

Turning the ground below

Into nothingness

It loves stillness

And silence

It dampens your wings

Drawing you

Into its mysterious depths

Freedom is not a word

It knows

My husband on the misty  Dochula Pass  in the  Himalayas within Bhutan on the road from Thimpu to Punakha where 108 memorial chortens or stupas known as “Druk Wangyal Chortens” have been built by Ashi Dorji Wangmo Wangchuk, the eldest Queen Mother.

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