The haze over the city is not only fog
Not only what you think
The diffusion of emotions, frustrations
Lost and lonely crowds pushing in circles
Dirty mist blocking eyes and hearts from the Devine.

On the mountain side a windstorm beats you
Senseless, you can't tell hand from foot
But with morning pollution is gone, all is clarity.

Do not dispair as the winds pick up on barren slopes
And at sunset your walk is stone, hopeing some
Muddy bend in the way will give shelter
Digging rocks up with stiff, cold hands
Hoping for soft dirt but finding all teeth, no gums.

Do not dispair when any upright thing
Has the voice of a thousand screeching demons
As the air's fury rails against it.

In the morning you will be soft, pure brotherhood
Seeing for miles over the blue and white.