Epiphany

The Lenten journey
Is strewn with ashes.
On my forehead is the cross
Scorched on, Lord,
Dripping with sacrifice.
I kneel in the gloom
With the candle
Glowing golden dust
Ellipsing the haloes of the saints.
Ash from the dying smoke
Of incense in the Sanctus
And on my forehead are
The fingerprints of death,
Dipped in the blood of resurrection.