In a style that can only be Gibran:
Once I filled my hand with mist. Then I opened it, and look, the mist was a worm. And I closed and opened my hand again, and behold there was a bird. And again I closed and opened my hand, and in its hollow stood a man with a sad face turned upward. And again I closed my hand, and when I opened it, there was nothing but mist. But I heard a song of exceeding sweetness.
I am inspired:
lesson in the mist
fledgling wings in key of “C”
Carpe Diem shares this wonderful reflection by Kahlil Gibran
We are prompted to write about Mist.