Quintessence of Dust

[With a nod to the Bard] We are the moving dust, we are the breathing dust, we are the seeing dust, we are the living dust. But how, you ask, and rightly so, can dust fall asleep, dreaming of places unknown, and lovers unmet-- how can dust imagine whole worlds and love with one heart for 60 winters and 60 summers? And do the notes that stir life come also from dust, just a little dust and nothing more? When the music is played and dust dances with dust, and dust laughs with dust and soon dust loves dust, can dust ever understand the paradox of its own being, from dust to dust? Not until the winds come, the warm winds of Eternity, will dust be blown away, leaving the unseen soul alive, to walk and breathe and dance and love, bathed forever in the dustless Light... [posted 2/27/21]