Memento homo quia pulvis es

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Or look at the flowers of the field: in this case, the forget-me-not. On the left, the wild flower; on the right, the 14th Century Bishop’s Eye in Lincoln Cathedral. Dust of the earth, breathing out oxygen that human dust might receive it as the breath of God; solidified dust, blown and hammered into sheets of coloured glass, colouring the air red, gold and blue, rainbowing the motes that rise and descend like Jacob’s Angels. We stand on holy ground in the Cathedral and in the fields.
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