Vapour Needs Dust

Vapour Needs Dust

Vapour needs dust to birth the skies,
To gather in clouds where silence flies.
It lifts from seas in purest form,
Leaving salt — the karma — warm.

It rises weightless, soft and free,
A spirit loosed from memory.
But purpose calls it not to drift,
Until the Earth provides the gift —
Of dust from ground, of life below,
Of horses gallop, wind’s swift blow,
Of children’s feet on open land,
Of tribal dance and human hand.

The roads we lay with tar and stone
Have sealed the breath of dust and bone.
Yet Earth was meant to speak, to sigh,
To throw its voice into the sky.
For only when the soil is stirred,
By wild and simple acts unheard —
Can vapour meet the grain it needs
To give the sky her rain-born seeds.

And rain returns — a soul reborn,
To rivers, wells, to fields of grain.
It cools the wounds, it quenches flame,
It writes the Earth another name.

So too the soul, when it ascends,
Leaves behind its weight, its ends.
The salt of all it could not cleanse
Dissolves, as higher paths it bends.

But it must fall — not lost in flight,
But come again to serve the light.
As rain it falls through love and trust,
For even soul, like vapour,
Needs dust.
‘Ai’ded.