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
We’re 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. ;-)