Added Thursday 5th February 2015
The ash upon my brow
Has made its heavy way
From those who shouted "King"
To those who would not say:
A warning of the slope
Which leads us to betray;
No need to do the deed,
Stay quiet, walk away.
The palm Cross by my bed
Rustles a jarring note
Of people steering clear
Of things they should promote,
Promiscuously bland
In promising their vote,
No gap between the hat
And the collar of the coat.
The oil that welds the ash
Reminds me of a king
Who, tortured and betrayed,
Accepted suffering,
Whose silence was as sharp
As crystal shattering,
Whose word is always true
As an infant's lettering.
The Cross upon my brow
Says that I must not wait
To turn against my ease,
Confronting what I hate;
It says my sins, though small,
Add up to something great,
That I so often fall
Because I hesitate.
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