Oh, to be mist

Oh, to be mist on a rainy day, 
to embrace the mountains and drift away,
to curl and float above a lake,
and revel in the rising sun’s wake

and oh, to sweep in silken waves
through untouched woods and cities paved,
to kiss the treetops, soaring high,
and wreath the shoulders of passersby

and oh, how sweet to simply be,
to set the scene for mystery,
to take a place, once sad and dull,
and make it seem more magical.