It’s sort of like opening the curtains 
on a morning thick with fog;
difficult to orient the self within,
impossible to see a way through,
or detect the familiar which undoubtedly
surrounds, yet remains out of reach. 
Walking through that same fog
further distorts impressioned reality,
challenges each of the senses. 

Or similar to swimming underwater 
away from bright surface light;
no breath, aware of impermanence. 
Distorted sounds mingle together,
vision impaired by stinging cold water. 
Need for oxygen overpowers all feeling,
get out, rise — rush to the surface 
to greedily gulp in fresh, crisp air…yet
light patches become spots…dots. 

Imagine waking in the middle of the night
in a strange, unfamiliar location;
unable to find a bedside lamp or light switch. 
Eyes adjust to dark but still do not see. 
One foot tentatively in front of the other
with arms desperately stretched out ahead
and breath firmly held so as 
not to betray this fragile presence to
unknown, unidentified enemies. 

Or envisage the fear running through 
every millimetre of the body,
as understanding of just how lost
it is possible to be in this strange
unfamiliar place begins to unfold. 
No idea of that intended destination 
from more than an hour ago,
even less inspiration regarding
where to start to head back. 

Then the beautiful armchair in which to be enveloped is becoming rare,
with warm comfort of familiar brew, often accompanied by a biscuit or two…
That is safety, refuge — but how do I get back there?!

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