39-1 2024-03-04

Once upon a time, there were no people. There were no eyes to see the stars, nor ears to hear the tide. But every night, the stars twinkled all the same. So too did waves beat unwalked shores, over and over, for an unknown eternity, and another after that. So she was, and never more. She watched mountains rise and valleys form. A little stream carved grand canyons. A gentle breeze painted sand deserts. Where the sun shone and raindrops fell, grew forests of trees, and little creatures to roam in between. The little creatures danced most merrily. Some large creatures ate many little ones, many little ones ate some large ones. Some flew in the air, some swam in the water, some walked, some climbed, some rolled... Some lived, just as many died. Some even saw their reflection in those same waters they came from and asked: why? These ones danced the most marvellous dance of them all. They laughed, they cried, they wrote stories and lied. They loved and fought and died, over everything, and nothing at all. Over land, over food, over oil and sand. Some believed in divine creation, others called it something else. Countless good sacrificed their lives against countless evil, countless evil said it was the other way around. These creatures climbed every mountain, explored every canyon, crossed every desert, sailed every ocean. These creatures built their own mountains, carved their own canyons, watered the desert, and drank from the ocean. To fuel both war and luxury, they dug deep down and found black and silver. They painted the land, water, and sky with their own colours. They built, they destroyed, they built again, each time convinced that their monuments would stand forever. Some of us fought to transform the planet, make it some sort of paradise, failing to realize that it already is. Others among us fought to keep it the same, fearing the destruction of what must be preserved, failing to realize that there is nothing to preserve, and nothing to destroy. How can one destroy what was never built? Everything already is and always will be. We each clung to and fought for our own dream, whether we dreamed of what once was or what could possibly be. A few of us dared to dream the dream that we already lived. We alone saw the stars, heard the tide, knew her secret that there was no secret after all. And so we danced our little dance, back and forth, 'til we tired and sank, surrendered to eternity. To all this most fervent dancing, she watched, and listened. And it all sounded like the hushed chatter of seafoam. And the time will come when the music fades. And there will be, again, no eyes to see the stars, no ears to hear the tide. And, one day, tired of watching, tired of being, tired of solitude and indifference, she too will dance her little dance. And lo, she walks to the seashore where she falls asleep to those twinkling stars, that chattering seafoam, and never, never wakes up.