Clean, pure, and unique, they fall, floating upon currents and descending some predetermined path. Above me, the trees sway as gusts of wind move through. Some melt, cold, upon my face, their properties in this reality changing rapidly, molecules separating for no other reason but that this is the way it was and is; hydrogen and oxygen combining to give humanity its life. And yet it is completely and utterly at one with this world, it changes states in perfect harmony with temperature fluctuations, these sets of laws prescribed by our Creator. Snow always melts when touching a warm body, just as trillions of other actions and reactions take place, coming together and separating based upon the order of a universe we were born into.

We appeared in this reality with a nagging and burdensome thought that we are somehow separate from this plane of being, that we can observe this world, record it, collapse in terror at it, or gaze upon a tiny fragment of time and space, our hearts bursting with joy at the uniqueness of a tiny snowflake at once fleeting and yet giving a glimpse of eternity in its perfection. It does not long to be something else, it is not uneasy with its prescribed path, it really does not even exist save for my sake, for my appreciation, so that I can praise the Lord for this world, this indescribable present, and yet still long for something else– how else to explain our ability to step outside of this physical reality this bondage of the material world. No other creature does that and this space is the space of angels and demons, ethereal crashing into the temporal, melting away this universe which simply cannot exist for its own sake.

How are we self-aware if the universe itself is not? It’s either chaos all the way down or it rests upon the Uncreated, the First Cause, the Everlasting Light which pierced this dark world, set down amidst the dust and hopeless days of man to provide a hope a promise of Everlasting Peace and Joy. The Eternal in the present, a snowflake for just a second transcends this forsaken world.

Published by Principium24

I want to write, as millions have before me. And I want to know what it is to be human, as few have before me.

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