Skipping stones,
ripples animate reflections on the lake.
Here when you hang your head
you can see all that soars above this place.
Casually painted cloud shapes;
whipped-up, evolving forms let to stray.
A concept rolling over itself out to the horizon,
but never a repeat performance.
That's the thing that sells me on art:
the inability to repeat, a once in a lifetime thing.
Moments. Once in a lifetime moments.
Always the time of your life. Always.
Living as tourists,
taking in every scene that we can.
We gaze our eyes and they're gifted
unobstructed views to the sea,
but lately I just stare into the trees.
We don't just look up at clouds anymore.
I haven't played games in my mind
with the shapes in the sky in years.
So, let's lay
on our backs
in the shade,
and speak into existence
the things we want so badly to believe!
All the things you ever wanted, still a believer.
Moments. Once in a lifetime moments.
Always the time of your life. Always.
