Tuesday there was partying.
Mardi gras. One last fling.
We were so full of the flame of life
or tried to convince ourselves we were.
Were we?
Our fast living
is but an attempt to outrun the wind.
Fearing the wind
will blow out the flame of life
will scatter even the ashes of our memory,
we run from the breath that gives life.
Wednesday came the ashes:
a reminder we are but dust.
Thursday it began to sink in.
dust does not give life
flame turns to ashes.
“Wretched one that I am!
Who will rescue me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24)
Dust does not give life.
Spirit gives life to dust.
Where can I find this Spirit?
Or must I wait to be found?
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