Here are the first two stanzas of a pretty good poem by Michael Chitwood, entitled, "Dust":
God said to Jacob
I shall make your descendants like the dust of the earth.
It was just like the Lord,
always the twin meaning.
Like us, dust clings to the what-nots.
Like dust, we find our place among the stones and grass blades.
Our history is a history
of rise and fall.