Let It Be

Don’t panic
 *
World-eating fog encroaches.
No capacity to breathe in this miasma.
Rotting from lung to core,
gasping for something clean
to inhale, to cure.
 *
Release.
Ooze gently
into nothingness.
No trace of panic
around which to coalesce
fear, malice.
Let turmoil bleed off,
dissipate as airless mist.
 *
Relax.  Restless thrashing
sinks, resolves by bit
into quietus.
Now, wasn’t that easy?
Slowly, without emotion,
watch fog roll by.
Calm.
Essence free to wander
pellucid sky.
.
.
.
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