We live against the dust.
To protect our shoes, surgical instruments
It is of use to sweep daily.
But we will not beat back dust.
Just by struggling we make more of it.
Take hold of the broom’s worn handle.
Let it feel your weight.
Be precise, disciplined.
You will find, on your knees, you have an existence.
Get your face to the floor.
All the armies of the world could unite.
They would lose battle after battle to dust.
The most destructive, expensive weapons
would not mark a single casualty.
Eventually dust would overtake
each piece of artillery,
every brave, trained soldier
Best not to consider dust a foe.
There’s no reason.
It doesn’t fear or hate you
or value what’s yours.
There is no inherent threat.
Dust has no country or property to defend.
No concept of borders.
This is why you can’t get it out of your house
off your clothes, from behind your ears.
Dust doesn’t grasp up or down.
Falling in all directions,
mindless of gravity.
Pretty in slanted sunlight.
There is more dust than days.
Pile all man’s knowledge and accomplishments and
the dust from an island not charted on any map would bury all
we have ever learned, created, bought, stole, killed for, sold.
Dust makes a joke of every dollar we
put into our bank accounts for safe keeping.
In the universe man is insignificant.
Dust has no equal.
Though such comparisons are of no interest
Nor is the universe.
Other than it is a place
Scrape blow gather vacuum carry dump.
Dust is dust.
As it was before all the effort.
Dust will outlast water.
And the worries of the world.
In fact there will never be an end to the world
because dust won’t go away.
That’s something to take comfort in,
worthy of worship.
Though again dust could care less
about status, morality, benevolence, thrones.
Dust will show itself to be a truer mirror than glass.
Between your hand
and your lover lies dust.
Dissolve into dust.
Take some advice.
Keep dust where it is.
Bathe clean in the dust.
Wash the dust off your body with dust.
Try to live a life in dust.