"Haze"

Haze

I live in a world
Unique in its own way,
With its clear
Truths and beautiful
Clarity, life goes on.
But, there are times
When I must leave
This world; for
What I search, I
Cannot find here.

The world I live in
Is unique, but not
Alone. There is another,
Where there are no clear
Pictures, no black or
White; only the gray
Haze.

Ah, the haze. It's all
Encompassing, obscuring
Most things from view.
Yet, still I come, searching,
Hoping... hoping to see
Her.

It is here that she walks,
In this world of haze.
It is here, this world to
Which I must come, for
I cannot see her in
My world.

As I stand in my world,
The time comes, of its own
Accord. I relax, close my
Eyes, and slowly, so very slowly,
The haze comes. It washes over
Everything -- I can see it
Swirling at my feet, but I
Do not mind. I welcome the
Haze, for with it she comes.

Finally, after a time
I cannot define, I arrive
Completely and wholly into
This other world. I have no time
To waste, none to spare.
I open my eyes.

At first, I see nothing,
Not in this world of haze.
I move on, walking, running,
I know not which. Looking,
Searching, I know she's here;
But where?

There she is!
A figure,
Out there, gliding in the
Never-ending haze. She
Does not yet know I'm
Here. I must reach her, I
Must! I increase my
Speed, but I'm not
Tired. I never tire,
In the world of
Haze.

I catch up to her. With
But a glance, I soak
Up her beauty, and
Looking again, I drown in
It. Her sparkling, knowing
Eyes; her straightly, crooked
Back; the knowledge she holds,
and the knowledge she
Does not yet hold.

Slowly, she stops. Anxiously,
I wait as she slowly turns
Toward me. She smiles, oh
That smile of hers. I reach out,
And though my lips do not
Move, I urge her to return,
To return to my
World.

She steps forward, but
Hesitates. She smiles again,
And slowly shakes her
Head. I lose contact with
Her as she she starts to walk, again.
I blink, quite naturally of
Course, but I know it's a mistake.
When I look back, the haze
Is already clearing.

I scream out! But only
A whisper escapes. I
Know she's lost back to the
Haze.

I look about... the colors
Have returned. I know without
Checking that she is not here.
A tear trace its way down
My cheek, ever so slowly.

I know I will return
To my world of haze.
Yet, for now, I am stuck,
Here, without her, in my world:
Reality.

Reid Stanley
January, 1992