I burn the palms from last year

A year gone with its dreams.

Burnt offerings to a God who tells me

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

 

The brazier is warm from the fire called down

Which consumes and I wonder what fire is really

What is it that can change hope and joy to ash?

Charity and comfort to soot and smoke?

 

Broken promises, harsh words, betrayed trust

All part of this broken bit of creation

Fractured and pieced together,

The bits and pieces creating a mosaic of beauty, but not completeness.

The body of Christ has been rent and torn

Dismembered by its own limbs

Joints wrenched from their sockets

Bruised and Dislocated

 

Are my dreams but chimera?

Illusion, pipe dreams that smoke

An expectation of prospects that cannot be?

Or are they the substance that makes my life worth living?

Still, I will be obedient.

Hoping that in obedience there is comfort

Lessons to be learned,

Reconciliations to forge.

 

I look forward to that day of reconciliation

Where fire cleanses and the fire forges

Where the touch of a coal will purify

And the dross of self will be burned away.

 

But today, I wait.

The smoke, flame and heat pace me

The silence that never is really silent will be my voice

The void will be my friend

 

Today in obedience, I will wait

And the ash will mark me, branding me with the imprint of my own sin.

The blemish of the cross will stain me

And the weight of that cross will sustain me.