A Lenten Poem

pen yourself a gospel of broken promises.
sigh for wishes made on Wednesday,
head still aching from Tuesday
(it’s only a sin because you swore to it)

long for summer too soon.
grimace like an eager child
biting into unripe melon,
too eager; teeth
catching on the damp rind
(fools dream of reaching 40)

become the Old Testament god.
punish your creations for being themselves;
make your prophet brag about thine vengeance
(apparently this is what perfected beings do)

fathom the depth of your love
by sinking beneath it.
confess to your devil,
“I want that kingdom.
That one right there!”
swallow the last of your saliva;
feel spent after feeling high
(like Jesus in the desert)


Questions for Discussion

What lines in this poem stand out to you? Why?

If you are observing Lent this year, how is it going? What is or isn’t working for you? If you aren’t observing Lent, have you ever had a fast which you broke early? What are we to make of frustration during spiritual practice and worship?