Dust

“By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.” – Genesis 3:19

From the dawn of the days, you held small grains of dirt
in your palm, you exhaled wind into the restful brown,
with your thunderous voice, we came into
dancing and shouting and naming
and blinking into the sun and grasping that ill-fated fruit
and leaving.

Untold ages later,
a new city emerges. There the people’ minds
are tabla rasa; their minds erased of memory of the Maker,
their hearts are clam shells. Their eyes are looking for buffet spirituality:
sleek stretchable yoga pants, mindfulness Mondays,
recycled bottles and red-leaf greens, everything
good to sample and throw off the platter,
in the name of reforming society,
nothing to rock the demons inside.

600px-27adam27s_creation_sistine_chapel_ceiling27_by_michelangelo_jbu33cut

God, teach us to remember
the dust from which we were born
redeemed by a great and violent mercy.
God, lead us into your covenant love
and slaughter the beasts inside.
Set our lips trembling,
coughing praise in the withering night
until the rose-hued dawn slips out shyly.

 

photo credits Wikimedia images (from my favorite Renaissance artist, Michelangelo!)

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