On the Eve of Ash Wednesday when we remind ourselves that we will sooner or later have to shake off our "mortal coil" I recall my younger days. Lent in Ireland was always a period when you gave something up .Usually sugar in one form or another. In your tea for sure. And more often than not the arrival of Lent meant an embargo on those visits to the sweet shop.
The reward would be great in heaven.
But perhaps more pertinently the scales would weigh in your favour and you could step out neat and trim in your Easter suit and bonnet on the day of Resurrection.
But for all of its unspiritual collateral advantages Lent was for me also a time of sacred space .....
Lenten Resolutions
The bitter taste of black tea
and smell of char-dried toast
and hushed morning walks to Mass
in the silence of a winter dawn
Her by your side, headscarf aschew
The moment pregnant with petitions
falling stars exploding in your head
Lenten resolutions-
Your plenary indulgence
to a clean swept pallet of soul.
That doesn't sound like good memories?
ReplyDeleteIt actually was very special and probably got me into my early bird habits...
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