Words of Dust
The pulse of my soul flows slow and deep
Gentle drops of love to seep
Through these silver bones, this skin
In life expose the life within
Through words of dust—and golden straw
Reveal the hope inside—so raw
The truth I see in every heart:
That every soul is worked of art
That those who beg upon the street
Are merely those cruel Life has beat
That she with perfect roundness there
Is carry’ng Fortune’s helpless heir
That he who robs, who kills in ire
Who acts in lust, who plays with fire
Who sometime seen appears too lost
Is broken, poor, has paid the cost
That those so hard to view in love
Are loved so dear by Him Above
And thus deserve more care than we
Can ever give, can ever see
That each of us, though foul appearing
Cannot deserve their judgment, searing
This truth flows out, to grant relief
Outside this heart of gold belief