Ash Wednesday Poem

I wrote this poem years ago, as a reflection after reading Psalm 102. On this Holy Day, I share it with you.“I am like a sparrow, lonely on a house-top. . .” (Psalm 102:7b)She perches high on a windy rooftop,Tiny dark silhouette against gray skies of Lent,Lonely singer of psalms whoseAncient music haunts those who hide.her throat sets notes free thatEcho among the ruinsIn stony wilderness below.Deeply wailing, deeply wailing.Ah Lent, come againTo lay bare our sinsOf mortality and hatredThat wither joy andThrow broken bones of peace against parched earth.She eats no bread.The salt of her tears createsRivers of ashes from aDark cross drawn on her forehead,And her bones burnFrom tight shrouds of fearThat wrap her trembling body,That entomb her broken heart.Ah Lent, come againTo lay bare my sinsOf fear and angerThat tightly clutch my heart andThrow broken bones of peace onto parched earth.She shrugs her old life offLike a worn-out cloak.It falls silently around her feet,A soft, dark shroudThat no longer keeps herWarm and safe.She perches naked, high on a windy rooftop.Deeply wailing. Deeply wailing.Ah Lent, come againTo heal my woundsOf loneliness and fearThat cut harsh lines into my soul andThrow broken bones of peace onto parched earth.She perches in silence, high on a windy rooftop,Waiting for narrow-eyed enemies.They scoff under darkening skies,Their stony hearts crusted with pride.She knows they will spit in her faceFor sins left undone.The silence of her voice echoes over the bones of earth.Its deep wails set free against gray skies of Lent.© the Rev. Sheila N. McJiltonPublished in The Anglican Theological Review (Spring 2000, Vol. 82, No. 2)