there is something liberating
about being dust.
i ease my clenched fists open
release control over my own life
and let the breath of God
blow me where it will.
if i am stepped on,
it is no humiliation
and maybe the foot that smashes
will carry me down paths
unknown, to worlds
dust has no need for food or drink
or all that ties down weary bones.
dust is not concerned with things
too big for it –
it simply is.
God if i must be dust
let me be
let me be
packed into a brick on a lonely woman’s cottage
or built into the child’s mud pie
or let me lie
at the base of a weed
and nourish it with all that i am.
even as dust i am
i am beloved and safeguarded by you.
God i am dust
and i am yours:
shape me as you will.
This poem was written by Avery Smith and belongs to them. Please do not publish it anywhere, or use it in a service, without permission from the author. Reach out to Avery at firstname.lastname@example.org for that permission, or just to chat!