Ask the Dust

You’ll never know where you’re from
Until you know where
You’re going. I know

A voice from heaven
Never sings anything but
Something major will happen.

But of all the ways the world
Could break, there’s only a few
Ways it could come together.

So, where are we going then?
I imagine us turning,
Things twirling, like snow or dust,

Beautiful, catching the light,
Gravity’s children in flight.