From a village, I am no different from you
A modest family and lifestyle
I travel the world as a merchant
The trade of knowledge
Oh, how it is now a days
As the blessings of money come
It’s curse may flood the heart, Noah’s Ark
The value of the money is not in its amount
But, in its resting state
This currency can buy a bed
But, it is far from supplying peaceful sleep
To go to bed every night, a wealthy man
At times, being fearful of life
How useless it renders now
To remain a shepherd tending to my flock
Amongst them, peaceful and content
Surely, value is to be measured, respectfully
How I have worked to keep the money in my hand
Amongst those I trust
To keep it away from entering the veins
Never to enter this heart
And this knowledge I seek?
Indeed this knowledge, the greatest treasure
Deep thoughts, within fine leather books
Historical writings, but If I do not know what I seek
Then I remain blind
As it may come a curse, knowledge
Not a purchase
Only obtained, rightfully so
This money, temporary
Only to serve as a boat
To the gems that lay deep
Deep within the ocean floor
Between the valleys and the mountaintops
Where comes my value?
Amongst my possessions? My assets?
We have truly forgotten.