What am I?

I exist inside this dreamlike landscape,

watching from its center.

I look as round as the earth,

and as white as the clouds.

I rest and watch the golden spirits dance.

I watch them dart and weave between the land.

What am I?

My round, white surface, patched with brown.

Is it dirt from the tree? Are the clouds passing through?

Do I lay on the leaf of the tallest tree?

Or do I watch from high in the dark night sky?

Am I an egg? Laid from the spirits that reside here?

Am I the moon? Lighting the spirits way?

What am I?

I look and see the yellow spirits standing.

I look below and see the red and blue, alive.

Behind me, the sunken sun leaves nothing but black (I am the moon).

In front of me, the yellow spirits watch and guard me (I am the egg).

I know not what I am, or how exactly I fit.

But I’m a part of this landscape. Watching from its center.