Dust

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You hold your head high

on a neck stiff with the starch of arrogance;

you may live at an elevated altitude,

but your collar is as blue in the shade as any other,

your substance is as much dust as mine.

If you will own your weaknesses,

embrace the molecules

which bleed when torn,

perhaps –

perhaps our souls could

fill the same sea,

our waves could curl on distant shores

and make of foreign pebbles

a new form of

dust.

Leaning Into Light

Leaning into Light will show your flaws, that much is true;

Blemishes and wrinkles will come sharply into view –

But if you can swallow pride down deep and step into its rays,

Morning highlights beauty’s glow, and beams with heaven’s grace.