Sylvia sat quietly on the edge of the steppe, her emerald eyes tracing the distant mountains where the sky kissed the earth. The warm breeze carried the scent of wildflowers, yet her heart felt heavy. She often wondered if she was enough—if her choices had led her astray, tangled in regrets and what-ifs.
The villagers’ laughter echoed faintly behind her, a reminder of moments she felt too distant to touch. "Why can't I feel as light as they do?" she thought, lost in the spiral of overthinking.
As she gazed upward, a single petal drifted down, landing softly on her hand. Fragile, yet fearless in its descent. Sylvia realized—the petal didn’t worry about where it would land. It simply let go, trusting the wind.
She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, letting the tension melt with each exhale. The sky was vast, the steppe endless, and her heart… capable of healing.
“Peace doesn’t come from having all the answers. It comes from learning to let go.”
With a small smile, Sylvia stood, feeling lighter—not because her worries vanished, but because she no longer carried them alone. The wind whispered, and she listened.
♪ The Soul of Wind
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The Soul of Wind