The shallow, clear water runs lazily between the rocks,
and the little islands of green life.
Oft we crossed the old bridge,
On our many walks, through this blessed land,
Observing, and being observed,
by creatures far more ancient, and wiser, than us.
Oft, we looked at our reflections in the mirror below.
Only, now, we only see the light of the sky,
for our images have been erased.
Oh, I liked this!
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Reblogged this on Sue Vincent's Daily Echo.
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Bon Jour
… un plaisir de retrouver vos publications
J’aime beaucoup celui-ci, merci
Amicalement
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I like the idea you expressed in this line about being observed “by creatures far more ancient, and wiser, than us”
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