The Past
It was from the soil that they had thrown themselves up, into the wind, to spread thinly over the broad horizon. Many had fallen back to the soil, and remained. There were the few that scattered out as far as the sea that churned – drifted over the dark abyss. Ultimately, they fell to the waters and sank to its depths, back to the soil. From where they came, they were there returned. Yet still, there were others. Others that had swept up to the stars and beyond.
The Present
In the heavens, the others become watchers, careful not to fall back to the soil. They adopt the void, the silence, the darkness, and the peace. With time, the watchers grow in wisdom and their mind’s become as vast as they are significant. Though, apart from the soil the watchers are, a part of the soil remains within.
Across the universe the watchers venture. Travelers, mere particles, drifting across infinity. The voyage is grand, until fate begins to warp time and distance between the stars. The travelers find themselves at the end, where they had begun. Watchers they become once again, witness to the revolving soil before them.
The watchers weep at the sight of the soil. The soil is scarred, the abyss is dry, and the wind is absent. Those who roam the soil, are few. Wisdom is not attained by the few that dwell on the scarred soil. Their minds are weak, their time is short, and against themselves – they express their rage.
The Future
The watchers will approach the soil. There, they will reach down to the few, those that tried to rise up in the absent wind to flee from the chaos. Yet, the burden of the few will weigh down the watchers. With furiosity, the few will turn against the others that fail to save them. Fate is to been unkind to the others, those that had once been the watchers. Eventually, the others become part of the few, and the few will become part of the soil.