On the days when prayer
is all that holds you,
Remember there is room enough in the dark expanse
to believe, grieve, and believe again
to fall, stand, and fall again
Let the ashes be a witness
that crossing paths lined with death
still recall what we oft forget:
the most holy in ourselves
does not demand our collectedness
Come, scattered one:
You, in all your parts, belong here.
Blessings, to all who celebrate and those who honor this day for other reasons, or sense a gnawing in the absence of a reason....May this touchstone be your ashes received (should you desire them) if you still long for them from a place of isolation or exile.
Beautiful.
Love this.