Awakening

This is a rewrite of a previous poem - does it read like a poem? Is the image clear?

Awakening

A slither of silvery light swathes the
surface of a darkened grey lake.
A mirror to the world above,
a craggy stack submerged in the black.
From out of the blue comes a waking wind.
Scores of crisp like tears spiral downwards
before resting atop their shadowy likeness.
For a moment, a dismal symmetry exists.
Then a fat carp rises. Gulps. Sinks…
Swallowing the tears in the wake of its dive.