“Motes of dust dancing in the light That’s our dance, too. We don’t listen inside to hear the music— No matter. The dance of life goes on, And in the joy of the sun Is hiding a God.”
“Motes of dust dancing in the light That’s our dance, too. We don’t listen inside to hear the music— No matter. The dance of life goes on, And in the joy of the sun Is hiding a God.”