A Poem for Ash Wednesday

Ashes and dust, we all fall down.
These bodies of ours will fade away
Til nothing is left but a smudge.
The smallest trace of life.

All our dreams and doings,
Our hopes and hollering.
One dirty smear for the eye to see
And the invisible effects
Of how we lived:

The slaves we loosed
The meals we shared
The time we gave
And the fullness of our grace.

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Simone Weil: On "Forms of the Implicit Love of God"

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* not with ink

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