From Dust Ye Came

“Infinite worlds appear and disappear in the vast expanse of my own consciousness
like motes of dust dancing in a beam of light.”  Yoga Vasishtha
< >
< >
< >
< >
From Dust Ye Came

a few days after
fall arrived we
turned on the furnace
to fight off the
frosty chill that we
knew was on the way

the unit, dormant
since the start
of spring, kicked
up quite a stir
when it rumbled
back to life and

that old familiar air
flowed up and through
the ductwork, vented
proof of resuscitation,
bringing stale smells
along with the warmth

we all had faithfully
performed the rite of
spring cleaning before
the central air was
to be used, and dusted
the whole damn house

it needed to be done
or there would be a
thick layer of dust
on every surface when
either air conditioning
or heat was first used

some of us didn't think of it
and others still were guilty
of procrastination when
it came to the room-to-room
cleaning before the onset
of the cold weather of Fall < >
now there was frost outside
in the early morning hours
and i, rising with the sun,
saw that there was dust
settling on every surface
but i was not surprised

i simply sat down, nestled
in the plush easy chair with
grandma's wool afghan blanket
watching a sea of countless specs
lingering in the swirls and eddies
of unseen currents in the air

DJH, 2008