About Echoes of Strangers

I pass by faces, like flowers in a quiet garden—
each holding stories softly folded inside.
Elegance isn’t in flash or loudness,
but in how a stranger blooms on their own terms—
steady, patient, knowing when to open and when to stay still.

They don’t ask for attention,
yet their quiet beauty stays with you,
rooted in something real and unspoken.