I am but dust, and dust will I be When gravity, heavy, wears down and claims me. I am a nothing, or so I have learned: “From dust thou art, and to dust shall return.” I am of dust, the dust on dry bones; The dust that collects in the oldest of homes. I am but dust, and though lowly esteemed, My God will command and give purpose to me. I am but dust, and wind! How it blows me! But God, He is mindful: He follows me, knows me. I am dust now, I’ll be dust when I die; Yet I am the dust you exhale as you sigh. I am of dust, the dust that makes mountains, Upon whose stern sides flow the purest of fountains. I am tow’ring, fearsome, strong; A relic, a record, of ages bygone. I am of dust that covers the seashore. Number my thousands and I’m still thousands more; I am a vast, breathtaking expanse, Upon whom the lovers, in passion, all dance. I am of dust, galactic and grand, That burns in the stars that outnumber the sand. I fill the skies and the reaches of space; A shining example - a proof - of God’s grace. I am but dust – next to God I am nothing; But God is my Father, and to Him I am something. I am but dust, a trifle – a small thing. But in the hands of a God, it is I who do all things. “You are a nothing – just dust,” you may say; But I am the ground that you walk every day. I will be bold and I’ll give Him my trust; I’ll boast in my God for making me dust.