Each Mote Of Dust Poem by James McLain

There must be a million way's,
That one can come.

I came to you,
Before I ever knew what love,
Could do.

And many dancing,
Mote's of dust, each one.
Was one of you.

That was by me when,
Then and when is now.
A nest when it is full,
As it was then.

Each sparrow leaving found.

Love it never knows,
When it is young.

That I, through endless,
Searching,
Sought in searching.
You I found.

And love in you, I found