The Dust-Writer

What did He write in the dust?

Perhaps strokes that sparked memories of promises long ago

How His thoughts of us exceed these grains

Or of Abraham’s descendants that outnumber them all

Some thought He may have scribbled aimlessly

To pass the time

To wait for the crowd to quiet down

But if I’ve learned anything

It’s that He is intentional

And no doubt, He bent down low

To where the specks choked back breath

Knowing exactly what He was doing

Every grain and fragment

Carefully shaped to His will

And in this moment

Formed His law on hearts - eternal

Maybe He bent down to the dirt

As He remembered how Adam was formed

And again with skilled creative accuracy

Wrote into the fabric of every human being

That He does not desire sacrifice, but mercy

Maybe they couldn’t throw a stone afterwards

Because the image of throwing stones

No longer matched the conviction beating in their chests

By the strokes of the Dust-Writer

May we put down the stones of justice

Our ignorant entitlement permits

Allowing His words to change us -

Hearts once cold and calloused

Now alive -

Beating with purpose

May the grains of our hearts

always yield – unlike stones.

Turning barren lands into forests

By the kind strokes of the Dust-Writer.

© 2025 Bianca Barnard