When the world was made, the sages say, the spirit of Moshiach was the wind hovering over all that would be.

Within each thing we behold, the destiny of all things dwells, like the embryo waiting to break out of its egg.

In the rhythm of a dandelion shivering in the breeze, in the eyes of the children we raise, in the goals we make in life, in the machines we use and the art we create, in the air we breathe and the blood rushing through our veins.

Within each thing, a whole new world awaits us to tap upon its shell.