Tennessee Mist

By Stone Bryson

Run down and reckless, by the life I've chose to live,

the words I write betray my heart - a tear I can't forgive,

feeling unappreciated on a cold and moonless spree,

I took my car to the open road in the mist of Tennessee.

Pulled into a rest stop just off the highway pass,

the air was thick as envy… with moisture on the grass,

I heard a distant train approaching as a movement caught my eye -

in the shadows of the darkness the mist began to rise.

A ghostly figure seemed to form within the ether’s fog,

I felt anticipation - but not any fear at all,

the figure formed into man of stately strength and pride

who strolled toward me with confidence and glory at his side.

He had the presence of a prophet - no sign of compromise,

towering stature - well-lined features - wisdom in his eyes,

a real-man who had faced his pain without complaints or fears,

and when he spoke his baritone was soothing to my ears.

“Listen to me well, my friend, for what I say is true,

do not fear the darkness, for it lives inside of you,

follow your vision faithfully - it will serve you well one day,

and never underestimate the words you write and say.”

He smiled at me and turned away - his long coat flowing wide,

his silhouette became a shadow that rejoined the Other Side,

my doubts began to fade away as the train rolled down the track,

when it fell on me - my inspiration - had been The Man In Black.

Copyright © 2007 Stone Bryson.  All Rights Reserved.

Written April 2007

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