This poem is a few years old and has aged well, in my opinion. Please do search for the rhythm and meter…and let the words resonate in a timeless sense of Ash Wednesday and the immediate sense of the day after a national spewing of effluvia all over the face of Truth (last night’s “State of the Union Address”).
It’s interesting…I find I have nothing new to say, as these words from ten short years ago still sit there on the shelf like a vacuum sealed Powerbar never touched or opened.
Charissa's Grace Notes 
Thank you for sharing this again. I’ve been thinking so many of these same thoughts lately.
It’s been hard for me to hang on to hope lately. I feel like tonight, when I get a cross marked on my forehead with ashes…ashes that came from our burning the palm branches from last Palm Sunday…I will find my hope re-newed.
Love to you and Jane… Deb
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I went hunting for this poem, given Ash Wednesday, and I rejoiced in that it’s stood up well these last 10 years, that it was good.
Think of me as you pray, for I will be there in spirit, praying as well…in hope of dust and ashes.