Revelations in Dust


I wiped away
the dust and grime
on all surfaces lay

besmirching the shine
life’s glory maligned.
How long it was there
I truly could not say.

What of this play
on words which may
or may not enshrine
a moment in my mind?

Is it kind
to pause and then rewind
the minutes behind-
with memories  make hay?

In the dust, did I find
that for which my heart did pine?
Memories in grime
a family full-living
day after day.


In Friday’s glance at the large teacup on our little breakfast table and I winced at the dusty collection of minuscule flotsam and jetsam. In the Saturday cleaning hours I freed the teacup from its shine-robbing film.

In Sunday’s glance at the renewed sparkle of this teacup I saw the aftermath of lunch with young ones who have left the carnage for upstairs play.  Too excited, they do not think about what happens to the abandoned lot.

It struck me that this clutter, yea even the dust and grime, holds evidence of a full-life lived fully…of all manner of activity here at the table.  Looking closely at the dust on Friday, I had found paint specks, crayon shards, glitter, bits and bibbles of school projects and art creations; cat litter from a beloved pet’s paws; crumbs and bits of food from before-school breakfasts and days-off lunches.

Why do I need to wipe the dust away? Why rid my home of the last remaining clues that my life has not been for naught?

Would that I could have gathered and placed all the dust of these many years in a jar to keep…

Keepsakes in dust.  The bits and bibbles that speak reams to a mother’s heart.

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