The Lake

The lake is still

But the trees are active

A siren of sound

That holds the lake’s captive

But it is deceptive

Both the lake and the trees

As the lake is full of life

While all the trees have is the breeze

The gators stalk their prey

Within the lake with life teeming

But the trees make the sound

Even with life missing

So what is truly alive?

The trees with the sound?

The lake with the fish?

Or me, a watcher on the ground?