The Beloved knelt down
and scooped dust up from the earth
and bent down and kissed that dirt,
laid tender lips on yours
and breathed into you
and there you are,
dirt breathing,
breathing God.
Attend to the breath,
it sings,
attend to the dust,
without its grit
the breath can’t sing.
Watch how you try
to be one without the other.
Attend to getting along.
The wind blows all dust,
eventually scatters it.
Sing, dust,
while you can.
—March 6, 2019