Offhandedly I throw the tin
into the basket with other
bottles, papers and plastic,
waiting to be transformed:
Detritus of everyday life.
Use fulfilled
now forlorn.
They linger
’til the truck arrives
every second Wednesday,
to gather life’s jetsam.
Then sorted and sent for renewal
to be
new bottles, new cans,
new plastic ornaments.
But still bottles,cans
and trivia.
The irony of God’s
recycling
is the older and frailer
we become
the greater
the Spirit’s “sorting”
and when finally
the last truck comes
the transformation
will be complete –
Eternal.
No more,
every second Wednesday night!
Every Second Wednesday
Offhandedly I throw the tin
into the basket with other
bottles, papers and plastic,
waiting to be transformed:
Detritus of everyday life.
Use fulfilled
now forlorn.
They linger
’til the truck arrives
every second Wednesday,
to gather life’s jetsam.
Then sorted and sent for renewal
to be
new bottles, new cans,
new plastic ornaments.
But still bottles,cans
and trivia.
The irony of God’s
recycling
is the older and frailer
we become
the greater
the Spirit’s “sorting”
and when finally
the last truck comes
the transformation
will be complete –
Eternal.
No more,
every second Wednesday night!
Categories: christian, Christianity, Devotional, Faith, Poem, poetry
Tags: Christianity, Devotion, Faith, Poem, poems, poetry
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Travels from Ur 