Sometimes I look up to the sky and have a longing to propel myself outwards amongst the stars and planets and fragments of dust that cling together in desperation, attempting to create some planetary mass that someone, somewhere, might one day call their home.

The earth looks on. We go about our lives, venturing to her highest peaks and trekking across the open plains. We cultivate crops in the soil and celebrate when the rains flow from the skies and into the rivers and streams and taps and glasses on the dinner tables of business men and dying veterans, and the child who laughs at the forming of the rainbow, that symbolises the unavoidable end of this dream that we have grown so comfortable with.

The earth looks on and is indifferent. We gouge away, we poison, we pollute and we pillage the lands, and expect to fill that void within us. Destroying the very planet that has given us birth so that we might find ourselves, find our way. Yet the more we gouge and poison and pollute and pillage, the further away from this idealised end do we find ourselves. For we do not only destroy the earth; we destroy ourselves. A drop of poison in the ocean is but one more in our cup. As we pollute the skies, so do our minds become clouded and our vision becomes obscured by the continually evolving chaos we find ourselves in, and we double and triple our efforts to maintain order so that we might fill that ever present void.

Should one look to the stars or the depths of his mind to find that which he seeks? The deeper we dig, the higher the towers rise above our heads. One cannot stand on a mountain top and deny the existence of the stream that flows effortlessly through the valley. Swim amongst the clouds and glide with the raindrops and rainbows will make their homes amongst you.