The world changes. It is one of the facts of life. As the natural processes continue, ages come and go. People are born, and people die. Life begins and ends, but the world is not the same at the end as it was at the beginning.
In an age long ago, there was honesty and honor. Chivalry and courage were respected and revered among men, and justice was praised above all else.
But then the world changed.
Sometimes change is sudden, like a clap of thunder or flash of lightning. The ground shifts under our very feet, and things are abruptly not as they were. It is the gradual change, however, that is most common. The dull, yearly foot that after five-thousand, two-hundred and eighty years becomes a mile. It is not sudden. It is not obvious.
And often, we do not notice the change until it is too late.
With each passing moment there is change. This second in this day will never come again—nor will this night, or morn, or month, or year. Sixteen years becomes seventeen. There is courtship and marriage, children and empty-nesters, and then there is death. It is only in rare, somber moments that we see the change taking place during the years—in which we see that things will not always be the same. Some miss those moments altogether. Some find them daily.
Children grow old—as does romance. Is it not strange how one can spend one’s life wishing the days away ‘until’, and then wish the very opposite? At the end, when gray hair has replaced youthful color, and the Golden Age has set like a dying sun, there are only the memories of the way things were before the change.
For when change occurs, there is naught on earth that can undo it.
Many fear change, for no one understands it. Everyone wonders why the seasons shift from spring to summer, summer to fall, yet no explanation can be found. Change is a fearful thing—yet it also brings great joy. The chilling bliss of a moonlight night would never sweep across young lovers if the sun should never set. The amber rays of dawn would never stretch across the sky if the cool night never ended.
And if this life went ever on, would we really be the gladder? If things went unchanged—if age after age went by with not a difference in culture or inhabitants of this earth—would it make us happy?
Without change, there is no risk; without risk, no thrill, without thrill, nothing worth living for. If dull gray monotony rose over the horizon each dawn, what would be the point of rising from one’s bed? Change, therefore, is not always to be feared. If there was only gray unfeelingness, truly, there would be no sorrow, yet there would be no joy either.
Change comes and change goes. Life goes on, but things will never be the same as they were before. Therein is the victory and despair of the world. If joy was not worth risking sorrows for, we would not try it. But given the choice between an unchanging forever, or one that is different day by day, which would you chose?
As for our earth, our world, it changes more with every heartbeat. And that is the only thing that will ever remain the same.
