Cloudy Trophies

What are we? We humans! Elements and chemicals, atoms and molecules that move in such wondrous concert, such harmony. Yet my clothes move in concert with me - are they not me? There is no special property that differentiates the molecules in my skin from those in my shirt - yet I feel no pain if my shirt is torn. What are those molecules to me? We are such closeted ideas, so entirely cut off from the world around us, and yet we think we see! The irony! How do we justify calling ourselves alive, when we are dead to so much of the world.

DNA, deoxyribonucleic acid - a simple molecule that somehow defines us? Are we so basic? What a piece of work is a man! Aye, a quintessence of dust indeed! Dust! Chemically we are just dust. Yet - a definite self! An existence in dust.

We are simultaneously the most realised and unrealised objects. We impact so much upon this world, yet live so little in it. How much can we say this is our world? Our span in it is brief, and do we really ever truly experience it? Oh, to truly feel the pain of simply existing would be marvellous!

There is, however, I believe, abundant recompense. Ours is a unique existence, for we have that capacity to expand beyond our limits. I am convinced that true humans, who enjoy their existence rather than ignore it, extend beautifully into worlds unrealised. Existence - the harmony of movement in all worlds, and no world. The true music of the universe!