The sawdust lay upon the floor
Each speck was well defined.
'Thanks be to trees, ' one said aloud,
'That we are nothing more! '
But one poor speck just would not rest,
'There was a plan! ' cried he.
'We're not just dirt the wind blows 'round, '
God loves us don't you see? '
So all the specks contributed
To God's anointed specks
Until the day the trash was burned
And all God's specks were dead.
Brian Johnston
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sawdust/
