Specks of Dust

In the air all around me,
They sparkle bright in the sun.
I wonder where in the world
They could possibly be from.

From the endless, deep, blue seas,
the glassy-surface shimmer.
Or a feather on the eagle’s back,
The glorious sky-swimmer.

From the body of the dead,
The tiny dots float away.
Off a baby girl’s soft head,
To the motionless shelf they’ll lay.

Sometimes they won’t ever move,
Just sit there till’ the end.
But sometimes they‘ll be in my room,
Never to descend.

Out from the light, they fly away,
Turn invisible again.
And I think of where they’ll be
For too long to comprehend.