Soaring among tree tops like a raptor in flight

Noticing everything below.

Is that a rabbit, a squirrel, a cardinal?

Breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

Riding currents – soaring, gliding, no flapping required.

Below a patchwork of earth:  greens, browns, vibrant colors,

Gentle curves, glistening rivers, neat rows of hay,

All mine for the taking.

 

 

Mirrors, reflections – echoes for our eyes,

What do I see? I see hair, skin, my physical form,

But, is that who I am? Is that who anyone really is,

only what a mirror shows?

Or, are we so much more?

If indeed, we are only what we see – how embarrassing

That should be!