Ashes, Dust

We are the epitome
of what may be
created from ashes.
Remember that all things
have their end;
the engine continues on
because other things
begin. Do not despair
if all that is left you
is the dust of the
former generation.
For we recall
that it was from dust
that we were made,
the moisture
of the breath of God
which turned it
into the clay
of our flesh. And even in
rot are creeping things
thereby fed.
The world is strange
with what survives,
and what is
resigned to oblivion.
Do not give up
so easily, for it may be
that treasures
are sometimes discarded
among the ashes,
even words
no one thought
could spell the name
of the divine,
from the voice of the gutter.