As the older wise man gazed upon the floor
In the dim candle light
Of the lingering night,
He pondered what he saw
And watched the flickering flames dance
Upon the old, well scrubbed wooden staved floor,
Casting his shadow here,
There, by the door
And wherever
It wished thereon to so do.
A student observing the master
Observe his shadow upon the floor
Asked him why he spent so much time
Watching himself in shadows thereon,
To which the older, and wiser man,
The master, replied that there always seems
To be much more seeable and real substance
To even a shadow than to the ego
Of a man wherever it is cast