A Mound of Dust

A Mound of Dust

If you called me
Like you called Moses
I would have asked
The same question—

"Who am I?"

And as I gazed upon
The bush
I would see
Myself,

Burning
With the crimson flames
Of lust,
Of selfishness,
Of every other
Sin.

Like the bush
It is only by your grace
That I am
Not consumed;

You see the beauty beneath the flames.

By your nails
You have engraved
My name into
Your palm,

And so I remain
Forever
In your hand.

Who am I?

I am a mound of dust,
Turned to clay by your blood,
Sculpted by your hands of love,
And fired by the flames of your discipline
Into a statue.


I cannot move without you.

I cannot breath without you.
Don't leave me to corrode in the desert.
Let your healing water moisten these baked lips;
I want to taste your goodness, again.

Who am I?

Without you I am nothing;
Just a mound of dust
Carried away
By the ebb and flow
Of time.

- Zack Strait