Dust Walking

April 12, 2010

I am dust walking–
dust with a heart of new flesh
where once cold stone beat.

Blood turns dust to flesh.
Dust and rock circulate life;
stone catches its breath.

Time passes and grace,
flowing red on walking dust,
quickens barren dirt.

Less dust– less hard stone–
more grace-blood– more living flesh–
blow the dust away.

What remains is real:
life, blood, flesh, bone– all things new.
dead passes to death.

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