Clouds moving slowly through the sky, watching indifferent to the anxiety of the animal and plant experience. Day by day, they keep moving, like in an huge white procession, with no deity to honor, with no goal, with no fear.
And while I’m noting its presence, using the consciousness of the moment to register such occurrence, they ignore any of my efforts, not only because they are in a different plane than me but because they don’t need any rationalization of their existence. And who am I to show it to them?
Don’t I belong to a cloud as well? The human cloud. And I’m just a single, little molecule, or even atom or even electron or not even that, building a little part of the total cloud that passes by everyday with no meaning or goal but to search for one.