Ash Wednesday

This is another hour of quiet singing
When the heart purrs like a well-tuned
Engine
And the eyes are sated
And the mind is filling full
Of thought in words contemplated.
Outside the day is quiet and dull
But in here
I commune
With Homer and an ancient world
Of bronze and muscle,
Glistening skin,
The head-nod that makes war begin.
And I love them, these days
Wherein I freely chew
My syllables as God has asked.
I have a job to do.
I have sorted and sifted and sought
In my week to cram-in
All the issues wanting
All the dream in words
And space between
That is my mission here.
These days are sable, sheer
And wide
And I fill them with quiet thought, 
The spirit by my side.

There are many ways of courage
There are many tasks to do
That make the difference God asks ...
I am part of his entourage
An honourable thing, a task
Of trust that I be worthy
Of his breath and touch,
His whispered knowledge.
The scorch of him
I gasp and bear with thanks;
In penitence I grasp
His flame that burns my skin;
And I strive, strive
To point my life in his direction.

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