the death of fire

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(for Ash Wednesday)

Ashes to ashes,
We all fall down.

We are born delicate and fragile,
By death of Fire.
The flames no longer leap on the hearth, spinning in skirts of heat,
To the wild music of a living dance,
To the beat of drums and merry human hearts.

No.
The dance is gone.
The laughter is an echo.
We repent in rags and bathe in soot for the sheer anticipation of
The death of God.

Brand your mark across my forehead,
Dying One,
Tattoo it here, on mind, on heart, on body.
40 days and 40 nights of
Remembering and mourning,
40 days and 40 nights of
Hunger in body and soul,
40 days and 40 nights of
Judgment by fire and flood,
40 days and 40 nights of
Silence that feedbacks in my brain.
40 days and 40 nights
Is not that much to ask of me except that
I’m hungry.

I’m hungry, Lord.

For soot,
For silence,
For sorrow,
For Salvation.

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to weep, a time to laugh; a time to mourn, a time to dance…”
Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4

(Liturgical poetry during Lent is inspired by the Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. Art by Nadia Wheeler, photo by Linnea Wheeler.)

Words for the Church: Lent
2. tiny tilting towers
3. touch
4. via del vagare
5. kept
6. enrich the earth

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