I am but dust and ashes; <br />Dust of whirled dust, and ashes from wasted worlds. <br />Dead universes of dusty relics, the dust shook down <br />From the first creatures footsteps, from a bird's dust bath, <br />From a cyclone in a dust-bowl. <br /> <br />Cooled embers from the fires that consumed <br />Entire forests and cities, to ashes floating on the Ganges, <br />Ashes from prehistoric campfires, ravenous fires consuming all- <br />Leaving everything only ashes behind, in a wasteland of dust. <br /> <br />When ash burns down the length of a cigarette <br />Which falls to the ground, glowing and then goes out, <br />To lie quiet and still, framed within the dust there, <br />It restates the normal condition <br />Of every living creature ever born. <br /> <br />Or- alternatively- <br />For my sake, the world was created. <br /> <br />Which stone will it be? <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />A man should carry two stones in his pocket. On <br />one should be inscribed, ‘I am but dust and ashes.’ <br />On the other, ‘For my sake the world was created.’ <br />And he should use each stone as he needs it. <br />—Rabbi Bunam<br /><br />Patti Masterman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-am-but-dust-and-ashes/
