Finger in the dust

Finger in the dust
tracing a faint line
grains of sand shifting
bumping into mine

I think I have control
I think I have a plan
Chess-player God moves an atom
Delight to show their hand

He formed us from a speck of dirt
His finger still traces fine
What will be the outcome
At the end of time

I submit to all the bumping
I submit to mystery plan
There is a larger story going on
Eternal cosmic span

You trace some words into the dust
Moves millions of atoms with a word
What if the whole world quietly shook
With a whispered word from you

Finger move upon my life
Finger touch in through the night
Finger move the bouncing atoms
Finger beckons us back to you

Barry Pearman

Photo by Raymond Petrik on Unsplash