The mountain of rock
it sat in the lake,
asking the waters
around it to make
no movements too vast
nor tremble or quake.
The stillness is all we'd need.

The mountain of rock
it sat by the grass,
asking the pastures
around it to clasp
falling souvenirs
that Autumn lets pass.
The moment is all we'll have.

The mountain of rock
leaned tall in the clouds,
asking the heavens
if it could allow
an audience with
the moonlight that prowls.
Your presence is all I want.

The Luna white disc
patrolling the sky,
gazed down at the rock face
catching it's eye,
waxing a beam
and waning goodbye.
Your great but it's not meant to be.

Your nice but it's not meant to be.