Poem As I wander

Shapes.
They drift by and disappear into the mist behind me.
I walk along a fuzzy path, the only sharp images being the shapes.
All different kinds, different sizes,

different types.

There is not a single sound and I wander along.
Somewhere out in the distance the sun rises, but I can't see the sun.
There's just mist and shapes.
As I wander further, the shapes become fewer and begin to fade away.

I'm scared,

but there is no turning back.
I continue my wandering, and the mist becomes water.
I'm walking at the bottom of an ocean, miles of sea between the surface and I.

There are no shapes now.

I'm alone.

Is this the road less traveled or the search for meaning?
Or perhaps this is the journey to finding yourself.
I kick off from the sand and ascend towards the surface.
My lungs hurt and I can't see where I am.
The shapes reappear and take on form.

People.

I break the surface and struggle, gasping for breath.
People everywhere, and the water disappears to be replaced by mist once more.

Finding yourself is painful and lonely.
I think I'll wait a little while longer.