Dust

Sitting in the garden, gazing at the sky. Noticing tiny specks, dancing in my eye.

Where have they come from? Where do they go? 

Are they little atoms, seeking somewhere to glow?

As the sun fades from the sky, the stars begin to shine - their complex patterns forming constellations for us to ponder and divine.

Where did we come from? Where are we going to?

Are we all made from dust, from when a star expired 
and sent it's energies spiralling across the galaxies so wide?