Sometimes we lift others up; sometimes we pull them down.
Sometimes we understand: sometimes we don’t see the limitations of our own understanding.
Sometimes we show kindness; sometimes we show self-defence.
Sometimes we assert; sometimes we block – and sometimes we just don’t give a toss.
There is a time to love, and a time to hate: but sometimes we hate all too easily.
What is humanity, but dust in the wind?
Sometimes we are but dust, blown in the wind:
Blown by the forces of our own vulnerabilities.
Yet what a profound chemisty takes place, when dust is raised by Light…
When the inanimate is infused with life.
There is a time to love…even a time to love our enemy.
There is a time to hate…even a time to hate our own weaknesses.
There is a time to fall…
And then there is a time to get back up again.
What is dust, but potential?
What is death, but a chance for a greater life?