The sky above
And the lake below
Were so still
Time not moving
The surface reflecting light
As old as the unseen stars
The mystery of the clouds
Wisps, whispering softly,
Floating below themselves
On a mirror stained
By lily pads
And fallen oak leaves
A canvas of light
An impossible abstract
Impossibly real
And I stood on the dock
Quieted by wonder
Drawn into the peace
Marvelled by something
I might never see again
And would have never seen
Had I not stopped
To look
At creation’s gift that day.