We mistake our insignificance for the immensity of a universe. There is no creation that would disdain us as increase as there is no increase but what is born so slight it bears upon our dreams. Our becoming is almost the perfect incremental—be it the shimmering cooperation of an electron, or the congress of dust & gas & cold chaos. It is what each of us needs to find the future. But having been is what makes us understand. Its remembrances provide us not only a "sense" of direction, but a sense of just how immense it really all is! 
The seed left with the wind. The wind that changes everything. The seed fell from the wind. It was covered with dirt so it might cover the earth & change everything. What is there that will not ravish the wind?
M. Fly
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