Every morning,

I woke up and hoped,

That the mist would clear,

From life and reveal,

Mountain, full of mighty promises,

I woke up and woke up,

Ignoring tight fuzzy dreams,

Never saw a clear morning,

Then this morning,

When I woke up,

Freshness was a little fresh,

Cold air and warm world,

I did not see mountains,

But fell in love with mist,

Accepting without resigning?

I fell in love with it,

The beautiful, mysterious, ignored one,

The lovely mist,

Who needed mountains,

Nothing but mounds of snow,

When something so dreamy,

And so abundant,

Never left my mornings!

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