Dust
You lie innately beside bucolic roads
On mountain slopes and rolling fields
Until motionless winds stir, His breath
Lifting you to glorious heights
Swirling, drifting, pausing here and there
Carried to the verges of the Earth
Where only He knows the end from the beginning
To softly lie down, again
Awaiting the breath of the Almighty
To raise you up in new birth
Copyright © Mickey Grubb | Year Posted 2025
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