Dust motes drifting aimlessly
Unseen and unfelt around the air
Slipping in and out of the windows
Through our fingers and our hair
Tiniest of the tiny
Never beheld by an eye
They crowd our world in secret
Listening to our laughter and our cries
When a golden beam of sunlight
Crosses their carefree way
How they proclaim their presence
In a soft, shiny display
Specs of dust in a sunbeam
I hear their whisper in the sight
No matter how insignificant we are
We will shine when the time is right