A Poem for Today

DUST DOESN’T HURRY Dust doesn’t hurry. It wants to do the simple thing. It thinks the universe is an easy place to live in. It says who it is by never rushing, by knowing that any place is a perfect place for dust. It knows where it belongs— on branches, on floors, across our silent hair. When we rush to our serious meetings, dust is peacefully sleeping on our shoulders. When the worst thing that could possibly happen happens, there’s dust all around us, sailing or landing, just as it should.