Compost Crib Devotional

My pitchfork chunks into the flesh

of cozy-hot decay

I lift last autumn’s leaves

dripping with last week’s

coffee grounds

and vegetable waste

and am struck

by the thick, cool odor

of new life groaning to be

in the middle of this pile

of corruption and rot

slowly transforming by God’s grace

into the promise

of another month’s greens

From the soil these leaves were sprouted

to the darkest soil they are becoming

It’s a sermon I smell

a lesson I feel on my face

as waves of warm sanctification

waft up from a coffin-crib

of seasons come and gone

As I turn this pile

July turns to August

and the days shorten

I pray my Father

I am here to see

the leaves on this season’s trees change

color and fall into

another yard full

of leaves for this crib

I would prefer to die knowing

it’s full and ready

to accept the nourishment

of winter snows.

Help a Brother Strike His Chains of Worldly Debt!