Dust
I’m staring very intently
At the dust that’s in my room,
It’s like a million astronauts
Floating around the moon.
The Sun lights up a pattern
In the middle of the air
And that’s where I can see the dust
Though it must be everywhere.
There’s something magic yet peaceful
About watching it float around
And as I do it begins to feel
Like I’m floating above the ground.
Maybe I am made of dust,
Maybe the dust is me,
Maybe I am everywhere
But my body is what I see.
