Dust: a Meditation on Romans 7

Look at me
I’m all about me, sometimes “we”
Because always it seems
That it’s all about me.
But who am I really?
Am I someone special?
Deserving a prize?
Should I esteem myself
In others’ eyes?
I’m nobody
I’ve been such a fool
To believe that I
Could be special or cool
Because of things that
I have or did or do
I’m only this
Because of you-
I am just dust
But proud to the last
Brittle as rust
I’ve been such an ___
Ask me why I think I’m great
Maybe I think I’m good
But hate
That’s the root
Of my envy, my pride
Drowning me
Pressing down on me
Crushing my insides
How can I get out
Of this arrogant tide?
If only I could be
On my own side
I trip myself up
Sabotage my own ship
I want to do right
But give myself the slip
My dust cries for glory
When I’ve earned none
It’s the same old story-
I’m not number one
I just think that I am
And that explains why
I cannot stand
When I try
Because I’m really just dust
Shaking my powerless fist
At the world as though
It owes me what I missed

And yet, deep inside
What I don’t want to admit-
That it is really my pride
That makes me feel like this
Each day I’m reminded
I’m both Cain and Abel
I feel I’ve been branded
Yet somehow, stable
I’ve no mercy for me,
Nor grace nor compassion
Just harsh reality
And bitter condemnation.
Who will rescue me
From my arrogant mind?
My heart is weak
And my sight is blind.


DSW, November 14, 2005