Praise of Dust

February 1, 2013 (Psalm 30, Chronicles 26)

It was you who pushed me from the womb – from the warm core of the only world I knew; you drew me out into a dark sea and bade me crawl to the starlight, to crawl until I reached the place where the night meets the shore.  And as I drew myself across that endless ocean floor I dreamed of breathing…breathing the light of stars, the ether of free space.

And just as I began to hope – just as I began to see my destiny glimmer beyond life’s membrane – you pulled me back.  You pulled me back and you drug me down until I drowned beneath the waters; you pulled me down and pushed me headfirst into the underworld where you kept me bound in irons for an age, now ancient.  And then, when it suited you, you poured me onto the earth. You poured me out; like molten mirror glass I floated across the still water. You stretched me out and spread me thin.  And the stars watched. And when I had reached my limit, when I had nowhere else to go, you closed the gates set into the walls of my horizon and my dreams fell, exhausted. And then the walls came in; my future shrank until I felt my bones folding – until I heard them breaking – and still you pressed me. You pressed me into a narrow space until I had no choice but to stand upright and lift my face to breathe…light.

Year upon year, there I stood – the first to see the morning, the last to see the sunset. My days were like years but I needed no rest, I could see the stars and I knew they could see me.

And I, above all creation, received your tribute.  From the coast came streams of gray-beard clouds, the emissaries of conquered oceans, and heavy-laden they stumbled on the frozen steps of my tall throne and spilled there your gift of fresh water from a humble spring.  But in even this was I glorified, for the snow fell and I was robed in white.  And I stood strong and proud beneath the cloak of winter.

And then a time came when the earth was tilted and the season changed.  And one spring day the sun raised high above me and shone his face upon mine and gave me warmth. But I turned away; those eyes are too bright to see. Still, at last, the new day caught me and I was burned; my skin cracked and then burst and my flesh fell like ash onto the slopes of melting pride. And in my pain, cold prayers fell from my mouth and drifted down the valley like wet incense, smoldering.

And in the forest, time hid waiting for the scent of my weakness and from the tree line sprang a hungry wind. In an instant, it was upon me.  It climbed my heels and tore at my flanks until it should bring me down, but yet it did not.  And for many years more I rose still above all creation. 

Until at last, my strength hanging in shreds, cold and naked, I knelt down.  And there I stayed until the lichen came.  And they, the tiny together, covered me complete with their finest brown-gold furs and charm-blue graces until their kindness broke me at last and I was brought full down.

Many times now I have been broken, thinking each would be the last. Finer and finer I have been sifted by your tenderness until I hope I am finally free of myself.  I am dust, this is my praise.