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Writer's picturelea noble

The Pea Souper (of 2008)



I wrote "Pea Souper"  after shooting this image of a car escaping a deep fog. The travel over a high bridge - where dangers lurk on either side represents our faith that we'll make it - even though we may not be able to see through the fog of our lives.  

It's really about being stuck. Have you ever been so stuck in life you can't see to move forward? Have you tried to improve your situation by trying different things- to no avail? This is like turning on your lights in a fog, you think it's a good idea, only too see that you've made things worse. The disappointment and surprise can be devastating. 

This poem is about moving onward, trusting that your one foot in front of you will take you to the final breakthrough. To all our breakthroughs. Let's all keep going! They are just around the corner. Cheers to you. 

The Pea Souper (of 2008)


The Pea Souper (of 2008)


It's a real Pea Souper, 

my Mom used to say. 

Thru fog as thick as pea soup, 

We drive.

Slowly.

Frightened.

With wide eyes,

Looking for an open 

Anywhere

No where 

Let's keep going...

How long has it been? 

This prison of fog.

How long now? 

We entered

like any other day. 

Then!

Assaulting surprise, 

It punched our breath,

Hole heart 

beat, battered. 

Heart, soft scabbard, 

It robbed our time. 

(Although we don't know it yet)

Now thick moist  

blocks our way.

Each turn

a humid huddle. 

We're surrounded,

surrounded 

It's a real pea souper, 

My mom used to say. 

Let's keep going... 

How about 

we shine some light?

It's a good idea,

too be in the clear. 

Only to discover soft, swirling silver,

sharp barbarous beaks

above wide walls, 

Much thicker than pea soup, 

Not tasty.

How long has it been? 

A prisoner of fog. 

Maybe 10 years... 

We are broken 

Yet rally,

Lets keep going...

Don't give up, 

Through pea soup, 

My mom used to say. 

Today we cross

on stretched wire.

We steel ourselves

as we drive 

the suspended tunnel, 

in hanging sky. 

Grateful we cannot 

see the drop, 

the fluffy downside, 

We burst through 

the heavens, 

Moving Fast. 

Humid hands grasping, 

helplessly, 

trying to hold us back. 

Through the gray high,

We break the sky! 

We're free.

On the other side.

Finally! Finally.

We sigh,

We can stop 

Now. 

We keep going... 

it was a real pea souper…


Lea Noble 

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