Ash Wednesday MorningMemories edged in Gold

Ash Wednesday Morning
Some mornings I feel empty of ideas,
nothing inspires me -
today, a moody sky, grey in grey,
no reflections, as if nature's mourning
the end of all that carnival glitter.
And then, I get up from my desk
walk into another room,
and there, I spy this scene,
someone's been out celebrating

*

In Emily Dickinson's words:

Delight is as the flight—
Or in the Ratio of it,
As the Schools would say—
The Rainbow's way—
A Skein
Flung colored, after Rain,
Would suit as bright,
Except that flight
Were Aliment—

"If it would last"
I asked the East,
When that Bent Stripe
Struck up my childish
Firmament—
And I, for glee,
Took Rainbows, as the common way,
And empty Skies
The Eccentricity—

And so with Lives—
And so with Butterflies—
Seen magic—through the fright
That they will cheat the sight—
And Dower latitudes far on—
Some sudden morn—
Our portion—in the fashion—
Done—

Image & own words © by Merisi