Planet Literature

Today, Zacharias Mbizo’s dream worlds take us to the land of autumn. Although it is often shrouded in fog, it may also be bathed in the softer light of the fading year.

Indian Summer

The smile that recently had run away from you suddenly lay at your door again. Shivering, it asked to be let in, so that you took pity on it and unlocked the door. When it followed you into the kitchen, you even warmed up some old memories for it to help it regain its strength.

In the evening, the smile lay down next to you in bed and purred around your dreams. It’s been a long time since you slept so soundly.

The next day, the smile had disappeared. At first you thought it was waiting for you in the kitchen, but you didn’t find it there either. To your own surprise, you weren’t sad about this at all, and you didn’t feel the urge to search the streets for it. You sensed that it was still there, even if you could no longer see it.

Later, when you went outside, you found the smile again. It gleamed on you from the faces of the oncoming people, with delicate threads it overcame the walls between you and them and spun you all into a cocoon of cheerful serenity.

Fog Home

Here, in the eternal cave of fog,
is where you are at home.

Here, where the things free themselves
from the corset of their shape
and flow into each other,
where they are interwoven
in a carpet of drops
that permeates everything.

Here, where every path
is getting lost in vagueness,
where behind every turn of the trail
the unexpected is waiting for you.

Here, where the tears
of not understanding any longer
dissolve in the haze
of that which has not yet awakened.

Pictures: Sanford Robinson Gifford (1823 – 1880): The Northern Side of Hook Mountain, with Hudson River (Rockland County / New York; 1867); Wikimedia commons; DarkWorkX (Dorothe Wouters): Background (Pixabay)