Narcissus and the Cloudwalkers

I envy the lightness of the cloudwalkers,
The manner in which their steps
Leave no further marks upon the ground.
They invade the unseen stealthily,
Never truly departing from it.
Entering walls like doorways,
Passing through unnoticing,
Unseen themselves.
They stand out like shadows,
Gliding gently over surfaces.

Lives brushed with turpentine,
Transforming harsh lines
And such precise boundaries
Into whispers and impressions
That resonate farther than the real.

The symphony of stars is reflected
In the placidity of a thousand lakes.
Depth and poetry elude me.
All I see
Is merely my reflection.