At first, everything was shrouded in mist — a hazy dream in shifting shades of grey. The mountains were guarding a secret, hiding their faces behind wandering clouds.
At first, everything was shrouded in mist,
a hazy dream in shifting shades of grey —
as if the mountains were guarding a secret,
hiding their faces behind wandering clouds.
But the mountains were teaching me patience.
They reveal nothing to those in a hurry,
and everything to the one who waits.
Like ghosts finding their form,
mountains were remembering themselves,
rising back from the dream,
summoned by the first touch of light.
The veil begins to lift — patience rewarded
Then, a sudden breath of wind parts the veil just enough —
a window of light opens through the shifting clouds,
a glimpse of something vast beyond belief.
More shapes begin to form in the haze,
fragments of a forgotten landscape.
As if the clouds were sculpting the peaks
with invisible hands of air.
When the sky finally revealed itself,
I realized the clouds had not hidden beauty —
they had prepared me to see it.
And I stood in awe,
not only of what I could see —
but of how it appeared.
Maybe the mountains just waited,
until I was ready to see.
At the edge of the day, the clouds drifted away in silence,
and when the next morning came,
the world felt newly made.
