I watch the days go by,
As well as the star-lit nights,
Wandering places unfamiliar,
In search of something I hold dear.

I can not find it in any store,
I can not find it in a market,
It was not found at the seashore,
Nor was it buried in the desert sands.

Where could this object be, that I hold so dear?
I am afraid it is no where near,
It is not in the rainforest so green,
Or hiding behind the North Pole.

You ask, “What are you so eager to find?”,
Could it be dwelling in a gold mine?
Ah, but no, ‘tis not in there,
For what I am in search of, is my heart.