It’s all there but different
the sky, the clouds, the cypress trees
they waver in the wind and then, with ease
they are making their appearances
a light kiss on the water
making their appearances
a light kiss with their faces

they see themselves
they see themselves
they see themselves
as they are

reaching for the other shore
as if yearning for a lost love
as if always wanting more.

It’s all there but different
like a sweet and silent specter
this almost mirror shows them
bend and sway to a shifting breeze
the wind it is the music
the trees they know the dance
the water is their theater
ballads of doomed romance.

It’s all there but different
mossy islands of envy green
at first unseen, now float in between
this elusive landscape
thirsty and drifting
on a sky of pink
like young continents
waiting to be discovered.