Philosopher's Poem

Stumbling through the foggy hinterland - 

Short of breath, naked, grunting,
I suddenly see glints of magnificent light,
Sharp points of light in the blanket of wispy grey.

I flail for them.

It seems as if my arms are about to touch the light,
It seems as if I am about to clear the night.

And then I do! I can see beyond!
(Suddenly, I am wearing a suit.)

But after a few moments of ecstasy,
I calm down - and then give myself a start.
In an instant, I realise I was deluded:
It is still grey: I have not cleared it at all.

I am lost in the hinterland again,
Naked and still struggling for breath.
And this time I am SCREAMING.