I asked the passing strangers br in the fine street of the wise, br ‘Tell me about your Self itself’ br br The first man said to me br ‘It is like a rose garden br planted around a fountain – br it is always beautiful, br changing, yet unchanging; br it is the very centre br of my peace and rest…’ br br The second man said to me br ‘It is like a treasure house of riches – br full of more sparkling, deep-coloured jewels br than anyone’s imagination br could ever begin to describe; br as beautiful as anything br in heaven or on earth…’ br br The third man said to me br ‘It is like a mine of gold and silver br where you only have to dig br and there is always more to find…’ br br To the first man I said br ‘You are indeed blest, br O noble sir… and must have earned yourself br this great honour…tell me, br do you invite every passing stranger br to walk and sit in that garden with you? ’ br br He said br ‘Yes; I am a poet.’ br br To the second man I said br ‘You are indeed blest, br O noble sir… and must have earned yourself br this great honour… tell me, br do you invite every passing stranger br into your treasure house, saying, br take all you need - br to make rich their life, too? ’ br br He said br ‘Yes; I am a poet.’ br br To the third man I said br ‘You are indeed blest, br O noble sir… and must have earned yourself br this great honour… tell me, br do you invite every passing stranger br to come and dig whenever he so needs? ’ br br He said br ‘Yes; I am a poet.