A blend of ash and oil
smudged upon my forehead.
This mark.
Not one of mourning,
nor for the mortality of suffering —
but rather,
to honor the dust of our lives
as atoms of transformation
that hover in the wake
of our becoming.

Divine breath speaks,
“Let there be light.”
And, there IS.
Here —
I am sparked.
Lit anew
to walk the road,
shed outgrown skin,
claim holy desires
that reside within,
walk toward the resurrection
of Christlikeness
only I can
bring to the world.

Today, I am marked
to live fully.

And, it is good.
Very good.