In the quiet dawn, where shadows gently play,
Dust twirls in the golden morning ray,
Each particle a story, a whisper of the past,
In the serene silence, memories are cast.

Through the beams, they float and glide,
Invisible tales that in the light confide,
A delicate ballet, unnoticed by most,
In the stillness of the day, they silently boast.

From ancient times to the present breath,
Dust holds the essence of life and death,
A timeless witness to joy and sorrow,
In its silent flight, it holds tomorrow.

The gentle dance, a poem in the air,
Of moments lived, of love and care,
In every speck, a universe concealed,
In the morning light, their secrets revealed.