As the breeze flows from the heights, and the leaves take flight. There sat a sage beneath the Mango Tree, with a keen eye he deliberated in observation.

With deep ponderings the sage gazed, feeling the gears tick within his brain. A depth of thirst for the waters in the well called Knowledge.

Within his mind, the universe he could see. Nothing to be hidden from the melody resounding from the ticking gears within.

Taking his staff, he crafts metaphors into the ground - like a vision a passerby can heed. Hours go by and the visions grow. The crafting like an evergreen bloom, forever elaborating.

From dawn to dusk, he ponders. Yet, dusk til dawn he crafts. For meaning he holds for the generations, a drink he gives from the wells of knowledge - a delight fulfilled for he.

The ecstacy swirls within, the fullness of purpose the sage perceives. What more can he do? The lineage of his nation does he hold. The lessons of old will he pass on to the lineage of modern succession - a quest embarked by the wise.