Breathe in.

Breathe in while reading this,

you breathe in dust,

you must.

Dust is not just dust.

It can be choking breath,

the kiss of death.

But these motes are stuff of life.

Dead skin cells they say;

Well, they were beautiful when you wore them.

Now they are dots of silver splendour

swirling and twirling in sunbeams.

Tomorrow they join a trillion others

to make a peerless sunset.

 

If dust is our cells, so be it,

but it's volcanoes too, and

proud horse mane flicks

and the demolition of mighty buildings.

It is meteors and comets.

Each speck a wonder,

each particular particle a planet

with its story, its knowledge, its destiny.

 

How can empty air be so full?

All around us all the time -

we move in dust,

through dust and

on dust,

while the sky itself is dusted with stars.

The sun is dust

and the dust in this room

which once was you,

dances in beams of dustlight.