White-haired sage
Some say he resides in those peaks atop the clouds. Others claim he wanders to remote, secluded corners. Those in the East suggest not searching for him if one wishes to meet him. And those from the West believe all searching are futile, for he doesn't really exist.
I heard his voice resounded in a chasm and found his inscription amidst a jumble of listless scribbles. Somber and majestic, he continued the unfinished story of ancestors. Sincere and much obliged, he thanked life for giving him another beautiful day to live. Then, eyes shinning with hope, he nodded at posterity - people like me - as if to say "You've found the right path. Now go and have fun!"