Ashes: A poem 

We are made of dust, to dust we go 

Death is a motion as much as life a flow 

A dispassionate mind knows mortality is the door 

That the horizon is the sky that meets the floor 

We are but a grain of sand on the shore 

Our beauty in flesh is not the dress we wore 

Nor the glory of achievements tells what’s in store 

After the calling come blessings for before 

The bright package in the shop has only a shelf-life 

Ashes remind us that age cuts like a knife 

They are a strong symbol of remorse and penitence 

That material crutches fail when life nears its end 

Life is heat, but its burning is ashes 

Sublime sacrifice with true greatness matches 

Greed is beguiling, appearances are a wasted shell 

Enlightenment is a pearl that only within swells