Ash Wednesday

Here, in early February,
robins feed on a snow-free lawn.
The grass is green.

There was an earlier dusting of snow,
but I’m thinking Spring
and lilacs despite the ash
smudged on my brow.

It reminds me that life is victorious.

I do not try to explain myself to God,
or argue, as some, God’s existence,
or confess as sin
the fact I don’t always believe.

Still and all, it’s true:
of all the mysteries there are,
mysteries of faith
are what I find most compatible,
even as I doubt.