What do I expect, O glimmering surface?
My expectations are blind
The Earth might whisper unthinkable secrets
if not for this educated mind
Among the deep waters and among the great stones
I search for notions implanted
Pursuing a thought, I miss the stark truth
of life as it is, enchanted
A new skill must be learned, as thinking is worn
a skill that is peerless in property
Held dear to the heart by those who are wise
this skill is itself a monopoly
Possessed by the moment, as I stand on the bank
the waters will assuredly glisten
Let us name it, this skill, of peerless design
the art of the wise is to listen