There was once a great sea, spread farther and wider than the eye can see.

It was a special sea; not because of its size, for there were greater seas; but because it had a trait shared by no other sea.

All other seas were self-contented; they were satisfied to just sit put, fat and flat, within their boundaries. Never did they wonder what lay beyond their mist-blurred horizons; never did they shrink or grow, nor try out new shapes and forms; and never did they seek to know what was hidden beneath or above them.

But not this sea: it was never to be found in the same place twice, an ever swirling whirlwind through boundless space; be it the dryness of the land or highness of the sky, on lands and skies known and yet unknown to all but itself, all vastness was the home of this wanderer of wonder.

Flowing through, it flooded plains and forests, splitting off, it swallowed hills and mountains, easing out, it engulfed valleys and riverbeds, and in its passing permeated all cracks and crevices of the earth.

Sometimes, its curiosity soared so high that it lifted itself up, turning and tumbling through the air, like a sky-scraping, cloud-piercing stalagmite, and then descending in a ear-splitting, earth-shattering tsunamy, washing away with its inquisitiveness all that lay in its path.

So playful was this sea, it would carve caves and crannies out of the mountains; it would pirrouete through the clouds, storming back into the land in a torrent of rain, painting shimmering, splendid river beds pixeled with wooden islands and deep blue lakes; and it would shape the landscape to it’s heart’s imagination.

It enjoyed its life with a fierce passion, and indulged its creativity with a sacred devotion.

Not so much enjoyment, however, had the creatures that lived within its playground. They feared its erratic movements, its unpredictable moods. They did not want to explore the uncharted territory it left behind, not to adapt to the new ways of life it brought about. Incessantly, they bickered and complained over it changing their plans and habits, and defying their attempts to tame and mold it.

They did not see nor understand it’s workings. They saw only floods where it was feeding the starving life and speading it’s budding life, leaving behind fresher fields and richer forests. Thet knew only storms where it was refreshing the air and rejuvenating the clouds, bringing forth cooling rain to places dry and desolate, turning scorching deserts into soothing sanctuaries of lush green. They cared only about their discomfort where it was pouring life into and forging homes for new shapes of plant and animal, grasses, flowers, leaves, fruits, bushes, trees, as well as insects, birds, fish, reptiles, mammals, of colours, textures, minds and hearts innumerate.

Yet others, in lands far-away and at times late-displaced, did see them. Some worshipped it as a god, some tried to understand its workings, and some simply lived with it in harmony. Yet for all but a very few, it remained forever a mystery.

And so, for all but a very few, the question remains: What made the sea special? What was so fascinating, so utterly absorbing, as to make a sea curious? And what was so miraculous it about its curiosity, that enabled it to give birth to new life?

That is a question that can only be grasped from within, from your own inner sea. May your curiosity awaken, and lead you to your answer!