Dust Befriends Dust

Does the universe know itself without light

giving form to the drifting residue

of Time's forgotten rooms?

Micro-vortices of dust

circle abandoned inventions:

darkened headsets,

silent drones,

unused robots,

cities imagined and quickly left behind.

We cling tightly to our beliefs,

our possessions,

our brief importance,

yet quietlythe erosion of memory

awaits its patient hour.

For…

Just as beauty sheds itself and falls unseen,

so too do our creations slough away their novelty,

gathering dust almost before their purpose

is fulfilled.

Imagine Times Square centuries hence.

Its towers stand,

their luminous screens buried beneath layers

of settled years.

Dust fills the avenues,

covers the names,

softens glass and steel into remembrance.

No crowds remain.

No commerce.

No applause.

Only ants…

Crossing forgotten thresholds,

Cockroaches moving through silent canyons,

and the forever-serving honey bee

following sunlight where humanity once followed itself.

Perhaps dust without light is not an ending

but a foreshadow, waiting Time's need

to open new eyes and illuminate once more

the oneness of all.

Is it possible that one day there will be no boundaries: The line between self and other, or human and machine, completely disappears?