On the Beach sand or the sand of the road from dust to dust I must go
Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust
are we merely earth, ashes and dust
with awareness
free will
and a conscience
consciousness
with the ability to choose
guided by our morality
or is there more
should there be more
must there be more
is it maybe
our dissatisfaction
with the here and now
that causes us to believe in more
to wish for more
I am quite happy
with the here and now
and will be quite happy
after my last breath is taken
to become
mere earth, ashes and dust
will you.
From dust we come, and to dust we'll go
A fleeting existence, a transient glow
Our life, a mere moment in time
A journey that ends, with the chime
Dust to dust, the cycle of life
A never-ending ebb and flow, rife
A reminder that nothing lasts forever
That every bond, every tie, we must sever
Dust to dust, we leave no trace
Only memories, that time can erase
The legacy we leave behind
Is but a whisper, in the wind confined
Dust to dust, a solemn truth
A reminder to live life to the full, forsooth
To cherish each moment, each day
For we never know when it'll vanish away
Dust to dust, the inevitable end
A journey we must all transcend
So, let us live each moment with zest
For from dust we come, and to dust, we rest.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
All that’s manifest, is but dust
Dead leaves falling, upon earth’s crust
Yet in-dwells in all, God essence
Enlivened by divine breath just
Child of God, glows in innocence
Heart bubbles forth effervescence
Earth life a school, where we awake
Rekindling soul’s luminescence
It matters not how long we’ll take
All will rise, none will He forsake
If only we choose to be still
Moonlight shines on a placid lake
We’re granted limited free will
Use it well and voids within fill
As bliss divine transforms our soul
Gently shaped upon the anvil
All together, swim as one shoal
Love pulse alone, makes us feel whole
Why for then, flounder in darkness
When God-connect is our life goal
Shift to interconnectedness
Recognising next, That oneness
To be as He, simply let go
All that is, is God-consciousness
Weary hermit, choose stillness slow
Make restless heart again mellow
We’re free here now, if we so choose
Behold soul’s luminous white glow
06-March-2022
He doesn’t remember
his great grandfather
who passed away when he was five
He can’t recall the wooden heart
he painted in a kaleidoscope of colors
that his father helped him to place
carefully in the casket
His developing brain at some point
over the past decade
determined the record of that day
and of the man himself
he'd hugged before leaving the hospital
when last he saw him alive
who had existed on this earth
for eighty one years
to be dispensable
superfluous
It doesn’t matter who we are
mendicant or movie star
Someday no one will remain
who retains memories of us
It is not only our bodies
that decay into dust
We live in a human body
when we consider all that it is
which is a remarkable specimen
it's a wonder there's nothing amiss
In the beginning, God made man
from the dust on this old earth
by speaking His word man came to be
so here you have world's original birth
For since God created all life
the human body continues on
comes from the womb till it dies
its span of life is 80 mostly till its gone
Think upon the human frame's works
all the blood cells going all around
the heart keeping everything going
be quiet for a moment, not hear a sound
At the end of life, all die
kept till God's judgment seat
one's history gone from dust to dust
missing one at your very street
(Love it or hate it, our bodies are an integral part of who we are so I've written this to give my thoughts on the amazing workings of our human bodies.)
Who tends a vase
while flowers wilt and rot within?
Who turns to polish glass or pot
when contents should remove to bin?
When stench ascends,
and nostrils turn aside and clench
because of staining sin,
it tarnishes the gold within
meant only for His glory.
Why obsess this cracked and fragile pot,
the look, the pout, the in the out.
Why preen the outer fashion seen
and not the inner beauty
of a spirit washed and clean.
The beauty of the body,
made to display the soul,
becomes an idol temple
when treated with this goal.
To worship God's creation
mistakes creation's role.
This body goes from dust to dust
and without it we will stand
to give our final soul's account
without its helping hand.
These polish bones
Once brightest gold
Now aged worn
Tarnished Bronze
Morrow age crusted
Spirit soul Heaven bound Intrusted
Fly spirit fly
Onward towards heavens skies
As my truest self so rise
5/27/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
From dust to dust our lives are thrust,
while flames the candle’s brief combust.
We leave the shelter of the bay,
unmindful night will follow day,
to launch our voyage, earn a crust.
All nature seems a sage august.
In paths of promises we trust,
not weighing dreams along the way
from dust to dust.
With age comes waning wanderlust.
The mortal frame’s begun to rust.
In measured steps our scenes we play.
But even stars to death fall prey.
And yet there must be more than just
from dust to dust…
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
Inspiration for this rondeau came from image and astronomy article ~ G54.1+0.3: Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust… The image showed dusty remains of a collapsed star with the dust is flying past and engulfing a nearby family of stars.
Past present and future
Space the tutor
Creations past
Vision in the vast
Minds to small to see
Creations mystery
Tiny stars we see
Time and space infinity
Who and what we are
Written in the stars
Dust to dust forever
Our souls joined together
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust -
All mankind to their fate are led.
To face it - though - each human must!
There’s no need to pray for the dead.
Like motes of dust or grains of sand,
God’s children, through his worlds, are spread.
We wither but we go on, and
there’s no need to pray for the dead.
Yes, truly, I believe that we
one day will be where angels tread
to live again eternally.
There’s no need to pray for the dead.
Death takes our loved ones like a thief.
Pray for those whose tears are shed,
who must go on despite their grief!
There’s no need to pray for the dead.
March 25, 2017 for the Dust Contest of Shadow Hamilton
Ashes to ashes… dust to dust…
We begin as a tiny cell and die with our remains turning into
little brittle specks of dust. All of our existence ends with our
bodies melting into the earth churning with the clay. We live for
love, we die in peace and through our journey we are taken
through distant lands of free will. We eventually become one
with mother nature, what had been intended so long ago.
Ashes to ashes…dust to dust…
Though the earth offers air for our lungs and ground for our feet,
it also offers a place of rest. That place is where everyone resides
after they perish. We become one with each other and in our final
resting place, we all share the same memories. Those of love. Those
of pain. Those of sorrow. Those of joy. Even those who have lived the
hardest of lives all carry some sort of happiness at one time or another.
Those who have lived the easiest of lives still carry some sort of grief at
one time or another. We feed off hunger and our bones eventually
turn to dust.
As our bodies pass, death is a must-
We all turn into ashes…
we all turn into dust.
March 22, 2017
Ivory-clad finger carves a path;
signs of neglect incur her wrath.
Minuscule motes swirl aloft;
lungs are clogged as hands waft.
Blanket covers all
on floor and wall.
Was just fine,
this shrine:
mine.
------------------------------------------
March 2017
For the "Dust" contest sponsored by Shadow Hamilton - Ninth Place.
I trimmed the thorns off the blood red rose to prevent my own flowing down the stem
The petals nestled soft as snow, the fragrance of a thousand nights and days
Misting the air, summoning memories and regrets, days so far and fragmentally near
The eternal green stems, rooted in the depths of the dust from which we came.
written poems by sisters, brothers
always judged by someone’s druthers
never judged with hearts of mothers
judged by how one writes, no other’s
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