The reflections of my dreams
I will see in one
stream.
Where the willow trees will sing,
with the voice of a queen.
The deer and the elk
wonder slowly in the bush
as if intending to stay forever.
The reflection I see in the stillest of waters
Is perfect.
Not a scar noticed with the naked eye.
Its skin as soft as a hare,
In the silent night of a cold winter.

But now the ripple
of sin
creeps upon the majestic waters.
You have chosen to throw that rock
upon your own reflection.

Vainly searching for something
More than the still waters home to
Your being

If
You chose to ask
for the waters to calm,
you will once again have a perfect reflection.