The dust of time** rains down in swirls Above the roiling sand it whirls Riding the wave of a desert breeze It rises up high just to seize the sky
The dust of time, it drifts and it dreams Clouding the vision of all that would see It parches the throat and boggles the mind Breaks down the walls that we cannot climb
The dust of time is all in our minds The measure of moments perhaps not defined The meaning is lost at the edge of the stage as The winds of change work to sweep it away
The dust of time is all that we have It marks each moment as we strive to get past It rains down on us in a glorious hue Clings to us here in all that we do
The dust of time is all that we are Just tiny grains to set us apart Weβre here for an instant and gone in a day The winds of our season will blow us away
Well, this little project took on a life of its own. Sometimes I start out with an idea and it just falls out onto the page. Other times, like this time, my brain gets wrapped around the original idea and I beat it to death until I suddenly see where it wants to go. Then it pours out onto the page fairly quickly. I need to be more flexible when it comes to exercising control over my ideas. The muse may very well have other plans for me. ;-)