The Dance of Dust by Mike Williams 01/29/2016 @ 10:55 A.M.

I sit in the room of afternoon sun, 
Light streams warmth into my window. 
As I ponder my life in detail all that's been done, 
And stare out blankly at the twisted willow. 

A glint of glittering particles rise and fall, 
Dust caught weightlessly in the air stirs. 
I turn to watch the sight as I recall, 
And observe as a delicate balance occurs. 

In the shadows the dust descends, 
And the light gives it power to rise. 
In a moment my life makes sense, 
The dance of dust before my eyes.