The Fog Rising



Let us go in; the fog is rising…
~Emily Dickinson, her last words

I have watched the dying
in their last hours:
often they see what I cannot,
listen to what I do not hear,
stretch their arms overhead
as fingers extend and grasp
to touch what is beyond my reach.

I watch and wonder how it is
to reverse the journey that brought us here
from the fog of amnion.

The mist of living lifts.

We will enter a place
unsurpassed in brilliance and clarity;
the mystery of what lies beyond solved
only by going back in,
welcomed to return to where we started.



5 thoughts on “The Fog Rising

  1. Beautiful, and I can only agree. My mom never took her eyes from someone as she labored out, and my uncle reached out both arms at his own time of transition.


  2. Breathtaking. Literally.

    I have never seen death described quite this way although I have personally witnessed the deaths of three beloved family members. I recall especially their other-worldly visage and almost imperceptible body movements.

    The mystery, the hope, the trust, the intimacy, the reality of Divine Promises being fulfilled, the homecoming envisioned and nearing fruition. The ‘eyes’ of our soul witnessing our ‘return’ from whence we came.

    Journey complete now. Weeping is left for those left behind as they mourn and await their ‘return.’


  3. Well put . Thank you for this. We all are in fogs of varying degrees . Sometimes we choose them , other times we battle & seek to get through them as they seem to choose us ! Until He comes again we’ll be facing the fog to some degree . In meantime may His grace guide us through with courage & growing trust that His promises really are true & apply to us who diligently seek Him. How great the day will be when the fog truly lifts … Forever ! Alleluia . Blessings , Mary E.

    Sent from my iPhone



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