When winter turns to spring, we often have fog. Fog can be dangerous, but it is also quite beautiful and intriguing. What is really there that we cannot see?
I found this photo on Instagram from Marshall Ramsey who is a cartoonist living in Mississippi. His cartoons are often published in the Clarion-Ledger of Jackson, MS.
I was also intrigued by this quote that Georgia Heard posted.
In my classroom, we collect good and thought-provoking quotes. Quotes can lead us to our own thoughts. Take some time for yourself, the poet in you, to think on all these things: the photo, the quote, what is currently happening in your life. Let’s write together. Post your small poems in the comments, and encourage other writers with your words.
I seek a portal
Margaret Simon, draft
to new possibility
slow reveal of me
Reflections on the Teche 
Your photo today was serendipitous, Margaret. I was contemplating a line from a poem in The Wonder of Small Things about listening “at the window of the unknown.” Your words about seeking possibility spoke to what I was thinking.
beyond the window
the light of possibility
awakens the day
within
A convergence of thoughts across the miles. I love “ light of possibility awakens he day. “
Love the idea of possibility awakening the day
Love “the light of possibility” awakening the day within! Limitless!
Rose, “the light of possibility” is my favorite line. I always look for the possible.
And, Margaret, I love, love “slow reveal of me” It conjures up all kinds of ideas and possibilities.
Beacon,
golden light
on peaceful pond,
calms the soul, then the fears
endlessly.
draft Janet Clare F.
Love the connection of light and calm
“golden light on peaceful pond” is a beautiful description.
Elfchen? Endlessly is a great word choice.
Well, Elfchen with a tweak in the 4th line. I think the total is 11 words, right. So perhaps “an elfchen wannabe’ ” or just a small poem similar to an Elfchen. Thanks for the photo and your poem and your nice comment. Oh the new day new light, new possibility…and portal is a great word!!
Love the first and last lines–endless light.
Janet, nice thoughts of the calming nature of this photo. “calms the soul, then the fears” Beautiful!
I feel calmed even by your image of the beacon of light on a peaceful pond, and love the progression of calming the soul and then fears.
Thank you for your lovely comment Carol.
hidden in the mist
dragonfly sheds its old self
wriggling to freedom
At first I thought I missed the dragonfly, but then I realized that you were answering the question “what is there that we cannot see?” How resourceful of the dragonfly to hide in the mist while wriggling to freedom.
I want to share this one with my students. Haiku is an accessible form for them. This one begs us to wonder what else is hiding.
Thanks, Margaret–happy to have you share!
I love that you saw a dragonfly becoming free there, Buffy.
Oh, I like that you answered Margaret’s question. Yes, indeed, even in the fog, the animal world still does its magic. This is great, Buffy.
No good at quick poems but I love this one –
Mist in the Morning, Nothing Around me but Sand and Roses
What I lost? No question.
Did I know where I was? Not at all.
Had I ever been happier in my life? Never.
-Mary Oliver
Thanks for sharing this beauty from Mary Oliver.
beautiful lesson in that last line, Joanne. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for sharing, Joanne. Mary Oliver is so wise.
The words of Mary Oliver are always true to me, at least and approachable, but rich in wisdom. I am transported by these words back to my childhood and younger days when I could freely be in nature and feel such peace. It is a message for the soul. Thank you for this sharing.
Wonderful!
A wonderful poem, Margaret. I love the “slow reveal”. I feel that for my own life, for certain. Georgia’s quote from Antoine de Saint-Exupery brought to mind my ancient copy of AIRMAN’S ODYSSEY, and a quote from Flight to Arras: “To live is to be slowly born. It would be a bit too easy if we could go about borrowing ready-made souls.”
Thanks for the response quote. Just right.
What a wonderful quote! None of us are “Ready-made souls”
I love the feeling of taking our time in all of these poems and quotes today.
Ah, our lives begin and then grow slowly if we are lucky enough to age and grow in wisdom as well. I did not know this quote and thank you for it, Carol.
Yes, we are lucky….
A beautiful image, Margaret. Your poem is full of mystery and promise. I especially like “slow reveal,” because change can be a process.
golden haze,
what promises do you
hold for me?
Jane Heitman Healy, draft
Lovely, Jane. Thank you.
Jane, I love the “golden haze” such a perfect description for that photo.
This has such an alluring feeling to it.
I love this, Jane. That golden haze is a feast for our eyes and also a comfort for our dreams. I feel you captured it beautifully.
Jane, I really like the image of the haze holding promises for the one who gazes at and through it. Lovely!
When we remember that each new day can hold so much possibility, I think we challenge ourselves (perhaps) to live more richly. Your poem zings with the true lifeblood of what our lives could be, out that window.
Janet
This was for you, Rose. I didn’t do well replying in the correct place!
Margaret, the invitation of this is exactly what I need right now, this moment. I’ve been sitting at my writing desk, stumped and stuck. I know I need to get up, move around, think of something else…and yet here I am. This photo invites me in. I adore fog. The quote draws me in as well.
Margaret, what a beautiful photo. I need to start collection aphorisms like you and your students do. I appreciate how you all are on the lookout for them. Here’s my foggy poem:
golden sky
echoes on the water
hidden dreams
held dear
Oh, I see hidden dreams in there, too.
Using the word “echoes” rather than reflection intrigues me.
“echoes on the water” – lovely.
I have always been drawn to water. I grew up near ocean and sound and now lake. Your line echoes on the water is so fitting and those hidden dreams well, the peace in being there and just watching water is a gift and one I miss when I am not around it like before. I wrote a poem about my mother and her life near water. It’s called Beach Music. So your sweet poem touches me, Denise. (PS are we fb friends? I have a little announcement I am posting soon about that poem. But want to publish it so can’t put it online.)
Maybe we are now? I just tried to befriend you. Did I find you?
Lovely!
dandelion
sunrise wrapped
in morning fog
as we wait for
dissapition
When I first saw this picture, I imagined a dandelion, and that’s where I went! I am inspired by all your recent elfchens, so I tried my hand at that form as well.
The sun itself is a dandelion. Thanks for playing along. Interesting word choice in dissipation.
I’m imaging the dandelion seeds blowing away – dissipating. Wonderful word choice.
I have always been drawn to water. I grew up near ocean and sound and now lake. Your line echoes on the water is so fitting and those hidden dreams well, the peace in being there and just watching water is a gift and one I miss when I am not around it like before. I wrote a poem about my mother and her life near water. It’s called Beach Music. So your sweet poem touches me, Denise. (PS are we fb friends? I have a little announcement I am posting soon about that poem. But want to publish it so can’t put it online.)
Oops this was for Denise!
Unique image—wonderful!
Leigh Anne, I love that you thought of a dandelion and then wrote this beauty. The photo and image are well-suited. I love that verb “wrapped”.
Gorgeous shot and reflection – the Heard quote could not be more fitting. Good and thought-provoking quote, indeed. Your poem invites the same with “slow reveal of me”…a door opening to unlimited possibility and potential.
I am feeling acrostic, so…
For all I cannot see
Oblique rays find their way through
Giving glimpses of wonders to come.
Thanks for this, Margaret.
I love your use of oblique. Everyone has seen this photo as a positive “glimpses of wonders” rather than a negative tone.
Beautiful!
Fran, what a I nice O word. Would you have thought of oblique without the acrostic constrant? Maybe, but maybe not. It seems perfect here, for the meaning, but also the feel and sound of it. And “glimpses of wonder” – Oh, I love that.
[…] Then, very serendipitously, Margaret Simon posted a photo of sunrise through fog by Marshall Ramsey in This Photo Wants To Be a Poem. […]