From This Dust

You reached into the heavens
and with a flick of your hand,
you flung dust across the universe.
In a whirlwind of chaos
your world began.

From this dust you created that which we call life:
The soil, the earth,
that which grows, cultivates, and thrives.
As a thirsty person dreams of drinking,
the earth wakes
and quenches itself with the water of life,
its branches stretching towards your light.

From this same dirt, you created me.
From dust you made this hand,
these lips,
these feet,
this smile.

You, O Artist,
mold me, shape me,
into a being that longs for wholeness,
for health and vitality,
a soul that longs to know you,
that wakes up still hungry,
yearning for your nourishing presence,
my face turning towards your light.

Divine Breathe of God,
You breathe new life into me,
Even when it seems as if these bones may whither,
You take the dust that I am,
And fill it will your spirit,
In the dust, you live and move
and breathe
From low in the earth your words shall come
Your voice shall come from the ground like the voice of a ghost
And your speech shall whisper out of the dry sands,
“You are dust,
and to dust you shall return,
but in this present moment,
right here and now,
Oh, my child, don’t you understand
what great things I can do with dust.”

Photo by Jessica Knowlden