Once when I was living in the heart of a pomegranate, I heard a seed saying,
“Someday I shall become a tree, and the wind will sing in my branches,
and the sun will dance on my leaves,
and I shall be strong and beautiful through all the seasons.”

Then another seed spoke and said,
“When I was as young as you, I too held such views;
but now that I can weigh and measure things, I see that my hopes were vain.”

And a third seed spoke also,
“I see in us nothing that promises so great a future.”

And a fourth said,
“But what a mockery our life would be, without a greater future!”

Said a fifth,
“Why dispute what we shall be, when we know not even what we are.”

But a sixth replied,
“Whatever we are, that we shall continue to be.”

And a seventh said,
“I have such a clear idea how everything will be, but I cannot put it into words.”

Then an eighth spoke
and a ninth
and a tenth
and then many
until all were speaking,
and I could distinguish nothing for the many voices.

And so I moved that very day into the heart of a quince,
where the seeds are few and almost silent.

— Khalil Gibran —