I am the lone tree, on the grassy hill, waiting for the birds to return. The stars and moon light up the darkness, but the robin is not in my branches.
I am the snow-covered peaks, longing for the traveler’s approach. I call out to the guides, but my summit is desolate.
I am the desert oasis, cool waters and shade I offer, but the caravan misses me, lost in the dunes.
I am the jewel, hidden in the loose stones underfoot, the sun would show my splendor, but I am unclaimed still.
I am the secret knowledge, yours for the having, are you seeking me still?