There is no definition to the world you exist in,
No realm of conscious thought.
Be it sand or snow, gravelled remnants or plateau,
You tower over all in a state of zen,
Although some would call it lone obscurity.
Watching, always watching, waiting, always waiting,
Branches still, you seek only celestial movement.
Caring not whether sun or moon does rise
As long as it is one or the other,
You seek only the beauty of cloudless sky
To bring forth that shadow of yourself.
It is a quiet and convivial companion,
A flattened, yet thoughtful friend,
And I envy every minute that you share.