I saw a million people
Standing on a hill,
Under the grey and square sky.
When I went to ask them,
What they were doing,
They remained silent.
Without words, they offered me a glittering jewel.
The sun then filled the grey sky.
Ah, how the sun’s light reflected in the jewel,
Flickering bits of seven colored specks,
Across the Earth’s surface.
One day, when the sun retreated behind a grand cloud,
The majesty of the light-show
Disappeared along with the sun’s tender light.
The jewel’s sparkle, however, remained.
I went back to that hill,
To ask the people why the jewel’s glimmer remained.
But, they too, had vanished.
As I looked around me, I noticed the hill was no more,
And the jewel, in my hand, remained glittering.
Just that one, self-sufficient jewel remained.