Speechless!

The stream was a beautiful shade of green and wherever the waters tripped on rocks, it bled white.
Polo drank from it to his heart's content and rested by its side. Around him were hills covered in a lush green carpet of grass. The soft touch of slumber snoozed his eyelids shut and drifted him to a peaceful nap.
A week ago, Polo had run away from his house with a bag containing some food, two sets of clothes and bare minimum money. He was always the quiet kind with a mind, full of questions. All of fourteen,  Polo thought about the source of life, of happiness and sorrow, the extremes - of people having food, money or a complete lack of it.
When he woke up, the daylight had already faded. Far away, on the other side of the stream was a mountain and the sky above it was subtly lit. Confused about the source of light he stayed still and kept gazing. Moments later, to his surprise at first, followed by delight, a beautiful off-white colored full moon peeked from behind the mountain. He witnessed a moon-rise for the first time and sipped with his heart and soul, the ethereal scene.

Weeks later, Polo's lamenting parents, who belonged to a hill tribe and of limited means, visited a monastery. They had received word from this religious abode; word about their only son. After waiting for several minutes in the open courtyard, within the monastery, they finally saw him. His mother kneeled on the ground before him, wrapping her arms around his knees; weeping. His father took his hand to his forehead and cried uncontrollably. They found Polo, only to lose him forever.

Polo stood before them; head shaven, wearing saffron robes and a calm smile. Tears trickling down his cheeks.
Tears of joy and of his divine calling - Monkhood.