"My train has vanished in the air,"
Complained the girl and sighed,
I lost my way and don't know where
Romeo and his dreams abide.
The place has got to have some name,
A proper or a common one."
The Gnat just laughed with fun:
"It seems your memory has gotten lame,
But no need to know names of things,
The only place names dwell within
Is someone's mind: mine, yours or his.
The question that you must take in
Is if your mind belongs to you;
If so, all things are yours,
The sun, the wind, green grass and dew,
Small thing and big, the old ones and new,
All stars and sky are yours,
And any dream, of course."