I ponder winters past, but
Seasons are vague as fine dust
That never settles and each

Drifting particle carries
Fragments of light until the
Inevitable scattering by

Stoic winds, reminding me
Of wildflowers and my own fragility
Before I scaled Ten Mountains

© Rob Taylor, 2018

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8 thoughts on “Dust”

    1. Hey, Ed….been a while. The poem is not specifically about me, but references one’s journey to discover their inner structure in parallel to the concept of tens….the tenfold path, the ten commandments, the ten emanations, the ten dimensions of the string theory, the 10 levels of consciousness. Each individual has to discover their inner being to answer this question. It is the distance between the physical reality we perceive and the place our soul is revealed to us.

      1. A beautiful perception!
        Vedantic view of 10 – 5 sense organs perception and 5 organs of action. And the poem describes this very well. The vulnerabilities of being identified with them, until you “scale” them! Transcend them to identify with the whole. Where you are free of these “fragilities”. Lovely write!

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