Borrowed Dust

On the Sacredness of Becoming

Before the forms were filled out
before the nurse lifted you to the light
before anyone whispered what you were

you were breath.

Not a category.
Not a conclusion.
Just breath.

You are made of dust.
Yes.
Of carbon and calcium
of ancient exploded stars
pressed into palms and cheekbones.

But you are not the dust.

You are what moves through it.

This body is borrowed earth.
Rented ribs.
A temporary address written in bone.

And inside it
something older than language
keeps knocking.

Call it spirit.
Call it soul.
Call it the quiet knowing
that will not let you sleep
when you are living a lie.

Some people walk this world
in clothes that feel like weights.
A jacket that never quite closes.
Shoes that blister with every step.

They smile for photographs.
They answer to names that do not fit.
They practice being palatable.

Until one day
the light inside them says
enough.

Enough shrinking.
Enough suffocating.
Enough apologizing for wanting to breathe.

And when they begin
to shape their dust
so it finally tells the truth
of the fire within

that is not confusion.

That is courage.

That is coherence.

We keep confusing the container
for the content.
We keep worshiping the shell
and ignoring the shine.

But you have never loved someone
for their bone density.
You have never wept
over a chromosome.

You have loved a laugh.
A stubborn hope.
A tenderness that cracked you open.

You have loved the spirit.

One day this borrowed dust
will return to the patient ground.
The ribs will quiet.
The pulse will release.

And no one will ask
whether the packaging matched expectation.

They will remember
how brightly you burned.
How bravely you became.
How fiercely you let others become.

We are eternity
wrapped in carbon.
We are galaxies
learning to speak.

So when someone reshapes their dust
so their spirit can breathe
do not stand in the doorway
with a measuring tape.

Stand in awe.

Because we are all
just light
borrowing earth
for a moment.

And the only tragedy
is leaving this world
having mistaken the dust
for the divine.