I call this poem "Shadow Box". The title was inspired in part for the things we cherish and display for all to see; and also for the way that we struggle with ourselves, "shadow boxing" with our hearts for different reasons. Some of us struggle with identity crisis, or personal issues, or to fit in or to find our place. Maybe Lent should be less about sacrificing something that provides comfort or a daily pleasure. Maybe we should seek to give up something negative, like guilt or stress or self-loathing. This one is for anyone who understands and feels the same way.
"Shadow Box"- by Jamie Patterson- copyright 2015
The trace of a cross darkening a lined forehead
Reminder that the dance is over
Sifting my fingers through the ashes of a dead day, seeking ablution, feeding my hungry soul
Rejecting distractions and borrowed time, shedding the night's regrets
This is the end of a season, and the beginning of a sacrifice
Time to put Carnival to rest, turning the gilt-lined page one more year
The revels played out, the fools and kings mingled with the titled rich and the poverty stricken,
Elected royalty and the nameless
The crowds roared for their treasure, their glasses raised as they entreated the heavens
Ghosts and mortals shaking hands, sealing the pact
Trading a doubloon for a king's ransom
The lines were crossed with yellow ribbons
Streamers that mark the crime scene, bloody footprints leading into an electric night
All boundaries blurred as we gaze through stained glass, fingers smudged with ashes, hoping for a glimpse of a childhood memory
Old traditions that lived then, and continue into a today not so different from yesterday
Set aside your masked intentions, hang up the finery for another year, light a candle for your dead
This house weeps, and we trade our golden finery for cloaks of ash
Shelve your idols, frame them as tribute
I promise to trade this earthly delight for a little less fear in the night
