Most merciful God,

bless these ashes,

all that’s left of glory

after fire consumes

the lust of waving palms.

Bless these ashes,

residue of hosannas,

the swelling songs we lift

in praise of might.

Bless these ashes,

ambition’s leftovers,

dusty remains of the days

we believed in ourselves.

Bless these ashes,

fine and flyaway,

insubstantial as the heart

without its truth,

without its truth.