What lingers from
Last year’s spring
the flowers and froms
Pastel petals
And verdant palms.
And my eyes so bright
Have now grown dim.
Once sparks of light
Now clouded windows.
“There’s dirt on your head”
All day others chant .
My sins they have read.
I do not regret
These observers find fault
With this smudge on my brow.
With this Fading form lingering
Black , sticky and tar like.
Remnant rent of spring palms burned
Shows my goodness burned by vice.
Show their foreheads smoothe
Silken and spotless ,
how sacred they shine!
To remind me of Christ’s
Spotless sacrifice for
my many blemished springs.
