Dust
Poem

0

Clay and water
Sieved and pounded
Moulded and shaped of His hands
Why do you then boast?
Of these riches and wealth?
They were here before you
And here they will be
When you are no more
Of wisdom and knowledge
Acquired and will be required
When you are no more
Your beautiful skin –
Nothing but boasting dust
Simply dust, safe that first breath
Giving in love, and with love
If there be any boast
Let it be of His second to none

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