As dust

Oh God, who desire not the death of sinners,
but their conversion,
mercifully hear our prayers
and in your kindness be pleased to bless these ashes,
which we intend to receive upon our heads,
that we, who acknowledge we are but ashes shall return to dust,
may, through a steadfast observance of Lent,
gain pardon for sins and newness of life
after the likeness of your Risen Son.
Who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.
(Prayer for Blessing and Distribution of Ashes)

photo credit: Justin Luebke, Unsplash.com

As dust

Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

within
the largeness
of God
dust, I am
we all are
tiny

a fragment of a larger whole
floating through the open air
only visible to the naked eye
when illumined by light

some days I am
certain I was once
a piece of His flesh
and now I am floating
trying to reunite
with my maker
my true home

most days I am
like a fragment
of an ignored
broken seashell
or sofa
or sweater
of carpet
or crumb of
neglected
leftovers

yet the grace
and beauty–
the dust of me,
of us all
is an offering
able to unite
to give life

as dust
blessed
broken
shared:
the common
mystery
communion
community–
may this true love
be

 

Marked

 Most days, our schedules are clogged

with avoidance: We’d rather ignore

the inevitable smudge of human decay.

 

This morning though, Ash Wednesday,

we step into lines and confront

the truth of pain.

 

We allow strangers to mark us

with a message of paradox.

 

Remember, you are dust. To dust you will return.

 

Flecks of once joyous palms, now black grime

Color the firm skin of the young,

Fall into the creased skin of the old.

 

Repent and believe in the Gospel.

 

In somber silence we gaze at faces

that will all end up in the grave.

A unity emerges with fresh freedom.

 

Life after death.

 

Off to meetings, appointments, repentance or avoidance—

yet some will wear their marks with pride.

We all are moving in the same direction.

 

Photo credit: FreeImages.com
Photo credit: FreeImages.com