The Bird and The Tree

The tree knows that I am moving and its not,
And its peaceful.

The bird sees that I am moving as it does,
And its peaceful.

I know I am not moving,
And yet I pretend I am,
And thus I lie, perturbed, uneasy and wanting.
Forever.

Neither tree, nor bird can I be now.
Neither tree nor bird can I look at now.
For I ignore their peace with each passing day,
To find peace in objects which neither know, nor see.