I'm here to write my way into your hearts and infect your minds.
The past leads to the future, how, in a few minutes, can I explain the past and religion's effects and how they relate to modern Equestria?
Lots of coffee and a little passion, that's how.
...
This is an experiment I did, a story from a lecturer's point of view, I guess.
Non-canon, of course.
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" to pray to clouds for rain, "
Prayer is to the immaterial, not the material. This is condescending and ignorant.
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Not it isn't, you pray to a being or object of worship weather it's immaterial or physical doesn't make a difference. Look up the definition if you doubt me. Prayer is not limited to immaterial objects or beings. You can worship anything or anyone, you can pray to anything you can worship, so you can pray to clouds. If your going to be pedantic make sure your correct.
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People worshipped and prayed to a golden cow in the bible.
People still pray to wood carvings of a person or people, not just Joshua, er, Jesus.
The pones right, prayer isn't limited to invisible sky ghost.
And I get the pun!
That's a reference to your comment, not the story!
To leave a comment: I'd say, this short story really makes me wish to see a longer introspective analysis of the world of Equestria and its creatures. I know other stories intermingle philosophizing and such into their adventures/dramas or what have you, but I'd prefer one like this. Just a good long look at the life and the mind of an equestrian.
This story reminds me so much of one of my absolute favorite stories I've ever read. A story named Heterogenia Linguistico, a manga of an aspiring Demi-Human linguist. Above being illustrated beautifully and a fun read, there were many just... awe-inspiring moments of beauty interspersed in the philosophy that went into the lives of these human-not-so-human creatures.
One chapter in particular will stick with me till the day I die, of an aged, old Full-Horse Centaurus at the end of her life who slowly withered away in a Winter's time at a gathering place of many different races waiting out the winter and living together in communal housing. She said nothing, and occasionally acted odd as Centauruses are their own bag of mannerisms, customs, and ideologies. But we as the audience got to care for her a lot, along with the protagonist and everyone else around her.
When she died, it was absolutely fascinating. So many different eulogies from creatures whose customs may as well be alien to one another, all of them paying their respect to the old girl.
Just a long-winded way of saying... there is beauty in the mind!