Dust’s Endgame

Dust to dust.

Dust to form.

Creation’s existential wait time.

Such residue,
akin to ever present sense reactions infiltrating one’s brain,
where reason’s resilience is impossible to fully quell.

For…

That which we try to wipe away with a cloth,
or wish away with wind’s movement,
or allow to layer in the attic,
hangs on like memories thought to be long forgotten,
yet forever secreted away in the dark infinity of mind.

For there is no unlearning,
just as what constitutes reality,
can’t be unrealized,

Illumination’s quintessential answer might be…

Only the universe can find order
with the interminable expansion of matter’s dust,
when minute particles reach terminal mass
and await cosmic intuit for final say,
when form inexorably becomes its own ineluctable fate,
known as infinity’s point of return…
the next beginning.