I am a little speck of dust
Traversing time and space
I look into a mirror
But I do not know this face.
Features there of someone
Consistently I see
He has a name and mine’s the same
And says that he is me.
Where there was once a boy
I now see an old man
Once confused about who I am
But now I understand.
Memories of childhood
Loved ones long gone
It is through our children
That we will live on.
A speck of dust floated in the wafting breeze,
looking at Mother Earth below with disdain,
for was it not frolicking about with ease?
Imagined sense of freedom made ego vain,
so prayed to the gods above on bended knees,
for boundless freedom eternal, free from pain.
Thus in delusions of grandeur so engrossed,
it wanders till this day, like a soulless ghost.
The water does so drink
of the land it fills it sides
rising up making rivers
lakes streams and ocean
I am confounded by the waves
of the liquid increasing
slowly I float I drift away
I am non-breathing
I am just a speck of sand?
3/24/22
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
Man,
Is just a speck of cosmic dust
Yet
His mind can the whole universe
Embrace!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
11 March 2022
his frame
huddled against
wind gusts
knives
in his ribs
a speck
'midst
snowdrifts
I AM JUST A SPECK IN THE UNIVERSE; FROM DUST I CAME, TO DUST I SHALL RETURN.
I AM MADE UP OF ALL ELEMENTS FOUND ON MOTHER EARTH,FROM THE HIGHEST MOUNTAINS TO THE DEEPEST SEA, SPECKS OF ME CAN BE FOUND EVEN IN OUTER SPACE.
THE CREATOR MOLDED ME FROM ALL ELEMENTS KNOWN TO MAN AND UNKNOWN TO MAN.
I AM JUST A SPECK IN THE UNIVERSE, "I AM FLESH AND BLOOD"
I REGENERATE, I INCARNATE, I AM FOREVER, I AM THE CREATOR'S MASTERPIECE.
BIONICS CAN NOT REPLACE ME, "IT CAN ONLY HELP ME FOR A TIME"
FOR I AM A LIVING SOUL AND SPIRIT.
I AM INFINITE, UNIQUE, YET SO SIMPLE, THE CREATOR MADE ME WITH COMPASSION FOR HUMANITY, A GENTLE TOUCH, A SMILE, A HELPING HAND FOR MY FELLOW MAN.
A WARRIOR FOR MOTHER EARTH, THE ONLY PLANET THAT THIS BODY CAN SURVIVE ON NATURALLY.
I AM JUST A SPECK IN THE UNIVERSE.
You’ll never be my heart or world,
only my God can be
He saw me as an embryo,
and knew … who I would be
God knew even sinews of me,
before not much to see
He’s my always, my everything,
in joy … or agony
He’s my strength when my weakest, my
adrenalin for pain
My hope, when disillusioned, and
my sunshine … in the rain
He’s my comfort when lost loved ones,
my eyes when couldn’t see
My faith when so disillusioned
lost me … I use to be
I’m nothing just a “speck of dust”
among dust on the earth
Forever grateful in me sees,
a speck … he thinks has worth
Warm static pours,
inundates my being;
light of love,
Omniscience.
One with the All;
swimming in the void.
Consciousness I am;
a cosmic seed.
I feel everything, everyone;
everything, everyone is me.
Just a speck in the ether’s;
sliver of something greater than myself;
I am a lesser god particle.
Then, I remember I have a mortal body
and fall from grace,
straight into the clay.
7-13-2021
'A Brian Strand July 14' Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
Jesus walked on water it’s true,
It was Peter that challenged:
“Prove to me Jesus, prove it is you”
Jesus said;”walk over to me”
But Peter he sunk,
he sunk in the sea
The symbolic message of this story is lost
It’s not about water,
it is about trust.
The sea was violent as are rocky times
The times we are in,
faith often resigns
The illusion of the absence of god himself
inside harder times
is an easy convince.
It is about ultimate faith in your creator
and his wisdom inside
his deterministic nature.
Buddhism depicts life as a dream,
Ok to be sleeping,
awakened supreme.
Awakened from being fully aware
For aware is an illusion,
a self-love affair.
That life is for faith and control of oneself.
And that those who are lost,
are but infidel
Jesus depicted to show your potential
The son of the father,
blind faith fundamental
We are incredibly undepictable small,
but a speck of dust in creation
looking up to the sky.
Consciousness noticing two trillion galaxies
All while mind
but sees one reality.
Symbolic stories simply asking to trust,
because even this speck,
can experience love.
It’s sad to see a foreclosed soul
Stacked in white sheets rising
Or elephants that die a “noble death”
To hear the passing sirens
That dare disturb our sleep
Give us pause to wonder
Whose last breath.
The plot we’re given
Slow or fast unravels
Lunatics in fringe worn clothes
Dance on as mortals weep
Laughing Gods amidst
Their armchair travels
Touch yet another button
As we sleep
What is life but wondering,
A speck upon a mote
In the eerie still of silence
A solitary note.
There’s a speck of September
under my skin
the first smell of fog
a taste of decay
swallowed with my morning coffee
There’s a speck of September
dancing goosebumps
across my arms
when I wake to darkened hours
as August pages quickly turn
There’s a speck of September
under summers last light
as a vee forms
dark layers drifting south
downy soft against sky’s flesh
There’s a speck of September
in the crystal night
as heavens key opens the stars
to fall into the yawning dawn
glowing through my blushing eyes
There’s a speck of September
rubbing against the trees
as the crunch of leaves
under my boots
form melodies of shifting seasons
Great blue sky above
Great blue sea below
Turquoise mornings
And warm sunsets' glow
What more could one have need for
What else might there be to seek?
When perception arises to its peak
Then one loses all the words to speak
Close your eyes
and make legs wander.
See time pass;
then let mind ponder.
Each effect
has its own cause.
We're not immune
to nature's laws.
Moments ahead
or seconds behind—
clearly seen
or totally blind.
A tiny speck
denies our breath;
then tips the balance
towards life or death.
For Coronavirus COVID-19 Poetry Contest
I'd love to climb a Redwood tree
Three hundred feet or more,
A leviathan, forged in wood
Sat on the forest floor.
A mighty tree, a monument
For centuries it has grown
All this from a tiny seed
That dwelt inside a cone.
Oh but a speck am I
As I stand next to thee,
I think that I shall never see,
A poem lovely as a tree.
Entry for
Famous poetic lines 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
Inspired by I think that I shall never see/A poem lovely as a tree - Joyce Kilmer
6/2/2020. Placed 3rd.
take
a deep
breath
think how
very little
this will matter
in the
grand scheme
of things
when one day
as death comes
to claim you
you’ll be
well on your way
to eternity
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
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