The Start of it all

Space dust drifting on solar winds,
Circling slowly, slowly, yearning to begin.
The hopes, The Dreams,
Laying dormant in the haze, 
Will bear fruit in later days.
Forces of Nature Swirling a flutter,
But with no mind to witness..... What does it matter?
Clinging, Clinging, to the rock,
In primordial seas begins our stock.