The Best View is from Afar

Upon my rocky loft, I perch,
Gazing at the dying tapestry of dusk.
As embers fade into the embrace of night
A hushed world, whispers secrets to the stars.

Below me, a still lake lies.
Its surface a mirror of shimmering waters.
Like scattered crystals tossed into the air
Reflecting the dimming twilight's last breaths.

In the distance, fireworks burst forth.,
Lighting up the heavens with joyful explosions.
Celestial celebration, painting smiles in sky.
I count them, like wishes on shooting stars.

A fleet of boats adorns the lake's expanse.
Vessels bob and dance in obsidian expanse.
They navigate the still ink-black canvas.
 I am jealous,,marooned on this rocky perch.

Yet, as I pause in my selfish resentment,
I'm filled with a sudden realization,
I wouldn't want to be anywhere but here.
For now, serenity of solitude, my companion.

For there is a certain solace in observing,
In perching above the madding crowd,
In being an observer of life's dance,
Where the world unfolds before my watchful eyes.

The symphony of stillness cradles me,
As I become one with the silent night
And from this lofty vantage point,
I relish the beauty of existence, undisturbed.

So, I sit upon my rocky loft,
Content in my own company,
Embracing the bittersweet melody of longing,
For sometimes, the best view is from afar.