The lake once calm and smooth like glass,
Feels the wind upon its surface,
It hears the rumbling of the clouds,
And its waves turn into white caps…
It tastes the raindrops from above,
And smells a fresh clean scent…
Then it sees the sun peak through the clouds,
And knows that it can rest.
I wrote this poem about the lake when I was 13-years-old. Sometimes the lake seems sense it before the weather changes.