The little boy confused after hearing them all, looked at his grandmother. "Who's my true master?" he innocently asked. She peered from over her knitting and said, "they're each a direction within us, waiting for their own time. You're the only master, who has to figure out, when to be which of them." #smimano The wind whispered, "keep moving like you're the spirit of tomorrow." The mountain observed, "sit still to realize you're home." The rain announced, "dive down ditching your backpack."
