The gentle mist softly touched <br />grass, earth and trees, <br />obscuring the present enfolding hills <br />from eyes' sight. <br /> <br />Without knowledge of the sun <br />it might be thought that the very mist itself <br />was the source of light; <br />dimly illuminating the small world <br />not yet hidden by its envelopment. <br /> <br />That seeming self luminous mist, <br />the light for men <br />in deep valleys full <br />of promised pastures green. <br /> <br />Those on the hilltop bask in sunlight <br />and call to the mountains beyond; <br />as, in the valley they ponder <br />on the meaning of stars <br />and wait for one to fall to earth.<br /><br />David Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/waiting-for-a-falling-star/
