A song by Dann Russo:
An excerpt from the poem Ash Wednesday by TS Eliot:… 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 …
Finally, a post from yours truly: Ashes at Starbucks
Like every major liturgical holiday, today will be a crazy one for me as I do my music ministry thang. Keep me in your prayers. I promise to return the favor.