Writing Lent

My church observes Lent. This year as part of that observance, they have asked for poems around the themes of Lent. I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about the wilderness and what it might have been like to be there. So here’s one of the poems I’ve written (but not submitted…).

Morning, the 39th Year

Sweep up white flakes of
curiosity dulled by repetition.
No big shows. No dry land
between sea walls or
wailing of distraught mamas
over lifeless sons.
Not even a locust or a boil.

Form the same old cakes,
roast a few quail and
get your water from the rock.
Wait for the smoke to unfurl
and stretch its arms to the sky
while the old man has
his daily chat.

Then turtle yourself on again
trudging step after dreary
step through mundane
miracles toward a future
you’ve only heard of
and never seen.

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