Dust

In every living form, dust is resurrected

A transformation nature’s perfected

The mind carries its own dust

Never cleaned, it becomes solid crust

There’s something sacred about dust

It’s what we are, it isn’t unjust

As dust, we all will mix well

But as living shells, we raise hell

When we dust off laziness

And the mind’s flakiness

Every grain of dust will remind

Of what is left behind

Dust is nature’s recourse

It’s an all-consuming force

When the mind turns into dust

Awareness blows it away in a gust