Kenzo, the master, in the forest deep,
Where rivers sang and ancient cedars weep,
He cast aside the world of fleeting things,
To find the truth that nature gently brings.
Beneath the sky, his thoughts were light as air,
He shed the burdens only men could bear,
In silent prayer, he touched the boundless whole,
The whispering winds became his ageless soul.
The mountains bowed, the stars his compass true,
In every leaf, the universe he knew,
With each sunrise, he met the day anew,
In every breath, the infinite broke through.
The seasons turned, yet Kenzo did not age,
He read the world as one eternal page,
The blossoms bloomed, then drifted to the earth,
He saw in them the cycles of rebirth.
At last, in stillness, Kenzo found his peace,
Where time dissolved and all desires ceased,
The world, a mirror of the mind set free,
In nature’s heart, he touched eternity.
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