Why am I so highly valued among some, if I am as common as the pebbles beside the pathway? I retort to myself, it must be because I am better than most. But a bird chirps along and hears my small talk; he chortles gleefully. O little one, I see you everywhere, you are all alike, priding yourself in what people think of you. You are truly very little; your soul is so fragile that the wind will break it.