
Clouds float in the water below,
rippling softly
as they stare back at the sky,
wondering why they don’t match
their sisters above.
Our reflections ripple as well,
distorted through the human lens –
shaped by what others say we are,
bent to what we think we should be.
Our true selves float above,
soft, pure, protected from
the weight of the world
as we drift across
a perfect sky.
Look up.
– ljh 2/26/16
Great poem and photo, Laura! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Tonya! I think this is one of my favorite photos of the lake so far… ☺️
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s very pretty. 🙂
LikeLike