Lovely is your geological form,
like a military tank,
earthenware hued,
impenetrable shell,
on spiky granite,
backwards, forwards, sideways,
according to the needs of the moment.
As if walking on stilts
on your legs uplifted,
even topsy-turvy.
How dense is the secret
of your piloting mind
and darting eyes!
You find it easy
to shift from dry land to water
without chill
or shock
when the waves toss the boats,
disintegrate on rocks
and ebb.
And after the waves’ departure
you hold on,
pertinaciously stuck,
granite to granite.