Our souls are like tender flowers at the mercy of the winds of destiny. They tremble in the morning breeze, and bend their heads under the falling dews of heaven. Man with his understanding cannot know what the rain is saying when it falls upon the leaves of the trees or when it taps at the window panes. He cannot know what the breeze is saying to the flowers in the fields.
~Kahlil Gibran ~
Photo by Joakim kræmer