Dust Absent Light

Does the universe know of itself

without light giving

the floating residue of Time's attic

some countenance for its ever-changing progress?

Archipelagos of micro-vortexes

listlessly clamor for survival,

as sentient beings we

hold tightly

our acquired beliefs,

our possessions,

our hubris.

Yet…

Listening quietly

to the gradual attrition of our minds,

resolutely the invisible erosion of synapse

awaits simple sparks of illumination.

For just as the winged fluttering of the Papillion

sheds scales of beauty and color,

and garret memories forever suspend and collapse

expand and contract,

so too is not man's experience

merely a cosmic quiver of matter,

eventually jettisoning its used and worn

as celestial dust,

making room for future birth,

growth,

erosion,

perpetual movement?

Perhaps dust without light

is but a foreshadow

awaiting Time's need

to shine illumination,

to flutter open the eyes

of eternity’s oneness of all,

and evoke continuum’s remembrance.