Naught but dust
I thought, there are these tiny pieces of dust and they hit the atmosphere and burn up in a flash of glory. From a distance they look big and spectacular, but really they are small and rather insignificant, until they hit that atmosphere. Then its a few seconds of glory.
And I thought how that's the human condition as well. We look to burn brighter than the rest, because somehow that gives us value and meaning. The truth is we are naught but dust.
But somehow, dust and spirit, hopes and dreams, when valued by the One that made us, take on a different tone than the depressing thought that we may be nothing but dirt.
And even old rocks become precious gems in the masters hands.
And His work can be beautiful.