by James Goldberg (CC) McKay Savage When we first saw the dust they’d use to make our bodies,we shouted with the stars for joy.Such fine, solid stuff–to serve as soil for the treesand shape temples for our souls. But if we’d known then how it tastes to dwell in earth,we’d have bowed our heads in reverent awefor the beauty of the delicate siltthat flows around us through thesefragile, faith-filled,fleetingyears. *...
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