Atop the highest mountain peak, there is a treasure known only through the oldest of whispers. It is the best kept secret that everyone keeps. We do not discuss it for it would be cruel and unbecoming to romanticize over these trifles. But we all know it to be there calling our name when we sleep or sip our morning coffee. 
At the top of this mountain there is a cliff and from the lookout you can see the graveyard of the giants. Most after stepping off this ledge will succumb to their earthly weight and fall to their deaths, joining the giants in their slumber. Only the holiest of us will float; Float out and drift among the yellow skies, drifting after the sun as it goes and goes and goes...