Closer

Look closer—
The clouds echo the silhouette of the trees,
Not to fit in, but to amplify the trees' whisper.
The ripples run to shore painted in rainbows,
Carrying the sky so it, too, can touch the sand.
The sand's craters await footprints
And their metamorphosis with the changing tides.
The bench on the beach is made for standing on
And the dock is made for diving under.

Look closer—
And maybe you will see the world
Not for what it is, but for what it could be.