Wrapped

Bathed in shrouded light as the mists rise and disipate 

Into the blinding light of the day, melting with the heat

Revealing the treasure of dew and webs caught in grass

Decorating the tips of trees like an ornament too

Fragile to touch or reach beyond and yet you don't 

Want the moment of first reveal to pass, it would be

Good to hold the beauty and mystery for just another minute

But the day marches on lost to the next gift wrapped

In wings or sound or water, if we but slow and listen 

What will come does and what is gone is not to be

Grieved just a different timing of things past and future