We know the science behind fog
when the water vapor begins to condense.
We know the poetry behind fog
on little cat feet.
We know confusion of fog,
the fog of war or a foggy mind.

This evening, I drove to church in a fog.
Snow, melting on a warm day
and condensing on a cool night.
The family cat died earlier this week.
My wife and daughter have been sick
and I’m going to church
to contemplate
the mystery
of
Good Friday.

I know the story,
I’ve heard it year after year,
but like the fog
there is still a beautiful mystery.