Dust Kissed By Eternity Poem by Haile Tesfaye

For behold, even the wounded mind
may become holy ground,
when it suffereth not the splinter
to sit upon the throne,
but layeth it upon the altar.

For the scar is not lord over the soul;
it is but a witness,
that healing hath passed through the fire
and was not consumed.

And forgiveness is the key
placed in the hand of the captive,
who, in his sorrow,
had become keeper of his own prison.

Truth abideth
when every tongue is brought to silence,
and love endureth
when even the grave hath shut its mouth.

For we are dust,
yet dust breathed upon by eternity.

We are broken vessels,
yet the Light knoweth every crack,
and poureth itself through what the world called ruin.

We are pilgrims beneath a fading sun,
yet the path of love
leadeth beyond the night,
unto the dawn that dieth not.