Roaming

The elephants walked the lands, banded together in a cluster of grey and blue. They roamed the grasses, meandered the dry plateaus. The researcher followed them compulsively, tracking the depths of their steps, the trails they preferred. He scrawled in his notebook, “What are they searching for? They seem to be lost--perhaps wanting purpose and love and meaning.”

“But it is not the case, here” a tall, Moriori warrior said.

“No?”

“No. Purpose is roaming. Roaming is purpose. ”

“Thank you.”

The researcher shed his clothes, left his notebook, and roamed the lands, hands fanned to feel the cool breeze.