Ah…the dust that covers everything!
\nTime is a scintillating dust of hands,
\nof morning light,
\nof wind broken into pieces of a chime.
\nTime is the supreme dust of green eyes
\non the pages of the sea,
\ncoming around the stones
\nof an eternal shore.
\nSo it is a counterweight to gold,
\nheavier on the scales of midnight,
\nthe end and the beginning of endless days.
\nThe dust of my heart mixes
\nwith the white dust of the sky,
\ngazing into the rain.<\/p>\n
My heart was born when it rained,
\nand my arms were wrapped
\nin the afterglow of light.
\nI was not born so much,
\nas a leaf defined me from the crib.
\nA leaf peeking into my new darkness
\nfrom an old gray trunk of dreams.
\nAnd the leaf and sky
\nwore a face dripping in the rain.
\nAnd you ask,
\nwhat does that mean?
\nThis dust of insubstantial time,
\nof a child\u2019s groping. <\/p>\n
And I reply, everything is a form of dust,
\nideas with their little hopes,
\nwords with their letters
\nglued to the page.
\nColor, from the great well
\nwithin the soul,
\npouring from the eyes.
\nEverything is divisible into dust,
\nand everything comes together.
\nIt is the sand thrown on the long
\nroad of the shore,
\nwhere we leave footprints
\ndissolved into the sea,
\nsaying he went that way,
\ngathering the dust of his life,
\nthrowing it in the wind like fireworks
\non the huge burning of the dawn.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Ah…the dust that covers everything! Time is a scintillating dust of hands, of morning light, of wind broken into pieces of a chime. Time is…<\/p>\n