Here are two of Mom’s poems to commemorate Ash Wednesday, the start of the Lenten Season.

ash wednesday

nails in the nest
a night bird falling

and in the houses
something
out of a dark hole
wet

now on the courthouse steps
a dwarf
thumbing his nose

the bride
in jewels before the frosted window
waits

the wind stirs
a star

under the ground the gold eggs gleam

~ joan vayo 24 February 1979

psalm

what bird
waits here in darkness
under the death of the beloved

by the lake the candles bloom
and flocks of little songs
all night

the darkest hour now
and only now

~ joan vayo 23 August 1978

The above photo is of Mom and her first grandchild, Thomas, in 1985 placing a single red rose on the altar at what was then St. Mary’s Church in Milford, Connecticut. (It was probably closer to St. Patrick’s Day than Ash Wednesday, but still during Lent)

Poems can be prayers.

The words and phrases in Mom’s poems came from her heart and her soul. The weeks of Lent provided a time to prepare for Easter, as spring showed its gradual signs of new life and rebirth.

“ash wednesday” © 1979 and “psalm” © 1978 Joan Vayo. All rights reserved.

Would you like to receive an email notice when there’s a new Too Much Brudders post? Sign up here: