Dust if you must, but wouldn’t it be better to paint a picture, or write a letter?
Bake a cake or plant a seed, ponder the difference between want and need?
Dust if you must but there’s not much time, with rivers to swim and mountains to climb.
Music to hear and books to read, friends to cherish and life to lead?
Dust if you must but the world’s out there, with sun in your eyes and wind in your hair.
The flutter of snow, a shower of rain, this day will not come around again.
Dust if you must, but bear in mind that old age is coming and it’s not kind.
And when you go- and go you must- you yourself will make more dust.