Where the seeds are few and almost silent

I learned of Khalil through a friend. 

From then on, Khalil and I had great moments together.

Every time I interact with him, he responds with much vigor. 

I don't know him personally. I have less to no idea who he was and where he really came from but, I know him through his words--or shall I say, the wisdom behind his words...his essence.

True indeed, as he's believed to have said, when I close my eyes and look around I see him before me. And, I see not what he's made of but what he truly is.

* * *

It was 8 p.m. I just reached home from a short stroll with my friend when a sudden surge of insight came upon me.

I felt that something inside me has to come forth through words or actions but I couldn't give justice to my thoughts. A vague though began throbbing inside my head, trying to escape yet the bondage of limited words chained it and wouldn't allow it to become.

In these moments, I seek the release of my thought--I read.

Reading liberates ideas. It frees ideas and gives them the chance to soar higher towards greater realization.

Out of the interplay of destiny and choice, I happened to knock at Khalil's door.

He opened and communicated with me. Then I found this piece of his work--a story about living and being in the heart of a pomegranate.

This is how the story goes.