Grandeur of The Particles

A bright and shining ray

Tiptoes in my room,

Through the gap in the curtains

Wearing dusty costume .

I see specks of golden motes

Sparkling in mid air,

Dancing to their own rhythm

Twirling round in flair.

Tiny splinters spinning ,

Creating a scene so serene.

Each particle glistening,

Never seen dust so clean.

The beauty untainted, which

My hands stretch out to seize.

In the opening of my fist

Not a dot of dust is seen.

I draw the curtains away

and let the sunlight float,

The space around me comes to life

With the multitude of motes.

Every particle within in my reach

Yet never close enough,

Their shapes dancing on my skin

Nothing more than an illusion , a bluff.

In the dance of their con

A treasured lesson I learnt,

Things we thought were ours to take

But which really weren't.

Our ardent yearning to own

The beauty that we see

But the splendors to be solely ours

is never meant to be.

This view is so sublime,

that I no longer feel so poor.

I try to satisfy my wishes

by basking in their grandeur.

The magnificence surrounds me now

Yet I fold my hands in disdain.

Even though my covetous heart disagrees

At least my mind is sane.