Photo credit — my own

The Preface

Ripples undulate,
reach out to feathers, fanning out
to kiss the sky,
in her fragile, fleeting ways

Seen and gone,
an impression, not an imprint;
a chance, not an opportunity

Passive observers may think nothing of it,
those with time on their minds
may see something symbolic

The beginning of something beautiful,
a shedding, molting off of what
is no longer needed

Natural selection
of a tempted romance
between ample water and an avid sky

An invitation to join,
to peer beneath the surface,
to see what all the ruckus is about

Or maybe…
it hasn’t even started yet.

Oh, Sunday morning walks at the lake. ❤