We are ashes, yes,
but underneath the dusky soot
that covers us like skin—
embers of glowing fire!
When the Holy Spirit blows,
like that first breath upon the waters,
we are enkindled
and hearts of heavy clay
become inflamed with Love.
If it’s true that we are dust
and that from the moment of birth
we are heading towards death,
then are not all our words
like a dying breath—
an exhalation of hope
that our voices will be heard
after we’re gone?
Like the light of stars
shining for years,
sending light across the universe
long after the star has burnt out.
Are we perhaps,
though weak and frail,
yet destined for eternity,
little flurries of stardust?