A forest of flowers as far as the eye can see Stretching aimlessly for the distant horizon Resting on the cool dark waters of a remote pond Hoping that they will not be plucked from peace And perish Water that does not flow, yet, it has waves Smooth, flawless, edges with crests that contrast Rock in form of water, but still solid As if the wind and water were locked in mass Open to the world in secrecy, found but lost Oases worthy of being the Garden of Eden The potential to support great, mighty things And in fear of being discovered by man One scarce, deserted, landscape A sea with no water, a savanna without grass The sun sets and death, becomes life Alive