Swirls Of Conscious Dust

Swirls Of Conscious Dust
© Surazeus
2026 04 03

I see that we are swirls of conscious dust, 
congealed by passion to observe the stars 
so God can wake up in our dreaming brains, 
but when I ask the mountain by the sea 
how many human bodies form her soul, 
she weeps swee rain that drenches fields of wheat. 

Awake in dream as swirls of conscious dust, 
we see First Mother of our human race 
in face of every soul alive on Earth 
for we are mirrors of her primal mind 
reflecting her immortal genes in how 
we sing together in one global choir. 

Wind molds my soul from swirls of conscious dust 
when I float sparkling over mountain range 
as gleeful mist of potent energy 
conspiring with tall trees of humming fruit 
to nourish human bodies with strange joy 
that urges us to run on river shores. 

Radio waves spark my swirls of conscious dust 
with aching passion to sing psalm of faith 
depicting brave ontology through love 
for every human dancing without wings 
till we fall laughing from Glow Cloud of hope 
and float mute on convenient waves of time. 

Dynamic thoughts in swirls of conscious dust 
may claim to resurrect my mortal soul 
with psychic blueprint Pythagoras draws, 
but I know our organic frames of lust 
decay from glory of productive play 
and dissipate to currency of fate. 

Expressive games in swirls of conscious dust 
motivate gorgeous ghosts in pulsing flesh 
to build bold heritage through honest work 
firm on foundation of harmonious faith 
so tale code integrates logistic growth 
based on judicial innocence we share. 

Monument built from swirls of conscious dust 
preserves celestial light of mental debt 
enmeshed in mordant matrix sewn from words, 
riddles constructed from suffering scenes, 
yet we link hearts with laughter angels lease, 
subscribed to special shows of satellites. 

Ephemeral glow in swirls of conscious dust 
emanates bright from core of our brief being, 
fugacious with sense of divinity, 
so I will treasure transient scene of love 
we share in garden of our private play, 
embraced as skeletons ten million years.