An Artist in his Studio on Ash Wednesday

It begins with fire
white heat blazing
a trail black—a way
to follow

And he does
ambles through ashes
finds the burning
turn within

So he prepares his paint—
a small bowl of darkness
collected from the soles
of his shoes

The canvases file into his studio
some fresh, newly stretched
others worn by weather
and wrinkled

He doesn’t use brush
trowel or knife
prefers the feel
of pigment on fingertips

as he labors over each piece—
adds his mark
whispering a prayer
that they go forth

ablaze

Published by asaur