Ashes
Hosanna palms now blackened
And I, remembering their joyful wave,
Come heart bowed;
And wait
For the sooty cross members on my brow.
Kneeling,
Thinking of Him
In wilderness days;
As I, in a lesser way,
Face my own uncharted land.
Time now
With the Sacrificial One;
Time for the soul grief,
The cleansing word,
The making-all things-new touch.
I rise to follow blood-stained prints;
To daily die
And in these ebony ashes bear
The sure seed
Of Resurrection hope.
Beverly Varnado ©2011
I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.
John 12:23-25