By the sweat of your brow you will eat your bread, until you return to the ground – because out of it were you taken. For dust you are, and to dust you shall return. –Genesis 3:19
Lately, I’ve been wondering about
The line between existing, and
Thriving.
I don’t think I’m dust in the wind,
So much as dust behind a bookcase –
Waiting to be swept out.
Pioneers worked so hard to make dust thrive –
Tilling the hard-packed stuff into something valuable,
Engaging in ironic tasks like sweeping out dirt-floored sod houses,
Watering the earth with tears and sweat – until what
They were doing was finally
More than surviving.
They were one with the land,
Embodying their surroundings.
That must be thriving.
I want to embody my surroundings, too –
Turn the dust of me into worthwhile words
In books on the shelf I hide behind.
-st
Lately, I’ve been wondering about
The line between existing, and
Thriving.
I don’t think I’m dust in the wind,
So much as dust behind a bookcase –
Waiting to be swept out.
Pioneers worked so hard to make dust thrive –
Tilling the hard-packed stuff into something valuable,
Engaging in ironic tasks like sweeping out dirt-floored sod houses,
Watering the earth with tears and sweat – until what
They were doing was finally
More than surviving.
They were one with the land,
Embodying their surroundings.
That must be thriving.
I want to embody my surroundings, too –
Turn the dust of me into worthwhile words
In books on the shelf I hide behind.
-st
