When the Fog Lifts

There isn’t a single sound that signals the change.
It just happens, quietly, gently,
the moment you stop trying to see farther
and start letting the light find you.

The same world is still here:
the same trees, the same faces, the same air.
But somehow everything gleams.
Edges soften, colors breathe,
and you realize you were never lost,
only waiting for your own eyes to clear.

The mysteries of life stop being riddles to solve
and become miracles to witness.
Each breath is enough.
Each step is holy ground.

You no longer need to rush toward purpose.
You say yes to this moment,
and the universe, hearing you,
leans in and says yes right back.

— Allison