fog over bridge

i saw a picture and thought of you.
of possibilities not yet spoken
like fog hanging lightly over dew
sitting upon blades of green,
tender and young, bending slightly
as if waiting for light to draw them forth.
air lingers dense with promises
we dare not share, but only hold close
like cool wetness on tree branches.
and time becomes our companion,
our lover, caressing the light
urging it tenderly to display itself.
to let reality escape like hope
on resurrection morning
with a sigh and a release
of all that could be if we only believe.