George William Russell - Dust

I HEARD them in their sadness say,
"The earth rebukes the thought of God;
We are but embers wrapped in clay
A little nobler than the sod."


But I have touched the lips of clay,
Mother, thy rudest sod to me
Is thrilled with fire of hidden day,
And haunted by all mystery

George William Russell

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dust-57/