Once there was a group who believed the sky was blue.
Another group thought it was pink.
Another group thought it was yellow.
Another group thought it was red.
And another thought it was grey.
Each group felt the sky needed to be worshipped and set about extolling the virtues of their chosen colour whilst tolerating with amusement the views of the other misguided groups.
As the years passed and arrogance and self-righteousness flourished tolerance turned to hate and indignation. How dare the misguided insult the sky with their corrupted spectrums. This heresy would not be tolerated any more. Let the cleansing begin!
The groups went to war, slaughtering each other in their thousands. And as each generation fell another grew up to take its place.
There were those who felt it was not necessary to worry about the colour of the sky, who did not believe it was essential to a peaceful existence. But to the fanatics, disbelief was as heretic as misbelief and so the whole world was drawn into the bloody vortex.
Had the sky a voice it could have stopped the slaughter. It could have said it was all those colours. It could have said it had been there for all time and would continue for all time irrespective of whether the groups worshipped it or not. It needed not the imagined supremacy of needy worshipers to continue its daily purpose of being. All these things it could have said but didn't..... because it was just a sky!

And maybe if it could talk, maybe it wouldn't want to talk to the living. Maybe it would prefer to talk to the dead and apologise to all the innocents slaughtered in its name!!

Reality is the shifting face of need... People tend to need magic and consolation with lifes vicissitudes and religion fills this void regardless of its veracity. The willingness to question basic tenets of any system of thought requires honesty and a belief that the truth is to be found ( although none has hitherto been defined) and that its pursuit is what makes man capable of being the god he so longs to find....