Dust We Are

Creative Commons image Cc - by sa- 2.0

Ozymandias
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:

`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:

Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,

The lone and level sands stretch far away.

********

My sister brought the above poem to my attention recently after she read a poem I had written. Reading Ozymandias, I am reminded of how we are the earth, our galaxy, and our universe - our substance is one and the same - we and it are interchangeable. Over time we will be dust and blow about the galaxy. I read somewhere that if the last man were to die today, within a short span of time (relatively speaking) our presence as a species would disappear from the face of the earth. Our highways would fairly rapidly crumble under the encroaching weeds, and all would be covered in dust, dirt and sand.

*

Annie Dillard, in her book, For the Time Being, reminds us that, "Earth sifts over things. If you stay still, earth buries you, ready or not. The debris on the tops of your feet or shoes thickens, windblown dirt piles around it, and pretty soon your feet are underground."

*

I guess we had better keep moving.