Fortune wanted his destiny told
so he stole the global stores
of crescent, crisp, paper-ensouled
golden, ochre cakes.

He broke and ate and blessed each strip
that guided him to his fate.
But after reading every tip,
he sighed, irate and bored

What do I need with savvy advice
with promises of health, wisdom, and wealth?
Such vapid nonsense given to entice
me into a tunnel of sight and scope.

Before I will to retire my aim,
I'll search the land for methods more sound,
and if I find one true to my game,
immortality I'll give as recompense.

He scoured the earth with a purpose clear,
eyeing tea leaves, globes, and sand,
Selecting numbers, elements for the seer,
he hoped for answers bound. 

But Fortune's fate is to find his fate,
for things named shift and change.
But in the nameless resides the weight
of the Way to mysteries untold.

-Tsai