Ash Wednesday: Trusting in the Sun

Ash Wednesday: Trusting in the Sun

 

It will return. It is

returning. Six o’clock

and already the winter candle

light is not a sharp

circle on the table.

 

It was a tough

winter, a tough fall.

Four dead, my own

new scars, the surprise

of seventy years.

 

I’m needing morning

bird song—a robin,

a cardinal. I’m needing

good news. And today

the reversal—just as the sun

 

is warming through the wind,

as the maples are giving 

their juice, my old

religion makes it Lent.

Well, all right.

 

If the meat is gone,

I might as well fast.

Someday again, days

will be longer than nights.

I just have to wait.