The clouds are low
bending light into fractions
washing the colors of everything
in the fog of quiet that overwhelms
all sounds of life, as it absorbs the
heartbeats and breaths of every
creature little and large alike.

Life is there, still beautiful
it is just quiet sometimes,
it is not only in the fiery sunsets
and mountains grand and sea
with waves trying to move the shore,
or parties and celebrations,
it is in the quiet contemplations
of the past, the present, the future
described in the truths, loves, and
memories that are both bigger
and smaller than we can imagine.

The mysteries of life
being held by the fog of
uncertainties, and at the same
time loving arms that are knowing
give us hope, vision and clarity
even when the clouds are low.