In the dead of night, the moon shines brightly. The wind blows gently against the old hermit's cheek.
He cannot see, but his ears are sharp.
He hears the very heart beat of a butterfly.
Soon, forest is still....
There is no wind....
no sound....
The silence is overwhelming to the hermit. All of a sudden, a tiger creeps out of the bushes. Although the blind old man hears her, yet he isnt not alarmed. Instead, the tiger leads the old hermit to a pond and lays beside him.
The hermit sits down.
A beautiful white crane swoops from above. The moonlight makes the crane's feathers glow. The hermit gestures his hands to the pond.
The crane understands, and he glides above the pond.
On this pond, a single light pink lotus floats on the calm pond. The crane gently takes the lotus from the pond and takes it to the old man. The hermit takes the lotus from the crane's beak, and feels the soft petals. He smells the stench of the algae, but instead of making a nasty face, he smiles.
For this old hermit knows what beauty this lotus holds.
A strong breeze comes and lifts the lotus from the hermit's withered hands.
The old man, tiger, and crane look at the lotus as it dissipates into the sky, waiting to be cherished by a god.