Happy Ash Wednesday to one and all. Or perhaps I should say “Penitent Ash Wednesday”. Doesn’t have quite the same ring.
Due to a combination of stress about a big liturgy day and passing out at 9:15 last night, I was wide awake at 4:14. Knowing my alarm would go off at 5:35 anyway I couldn’t fall back to sleep, so around 5:15 I decided to pray the morning office. I always pray Evening Prayer during Lent, and thought this would be a great way to start things off. Plus, I love the Benedictus.
Well, my brain was in no state to pray anything, so that didn’t go great. But I did kick off the season reading my favorite poem, TS Eliot’s Ash Wednesday. Here’s the final section:
Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn
Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings
And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth
This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks
But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away
Let the other yew be shaken and reply.
Blessèd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit
of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated
And let my cry come unto Thee.