Holy Mess

Sanctify the compost heap
where I trudge in dark with the day's dank scraps.
Sanctify the living stench,
soil's second chance,
barren fig-tree's friend.

Sanctify the dishes piled
on piles around the cluttered sink.
Sanctify the time it takes
to scrub and dry,
to sort and stack.

Sanctify numb fingers, ice
on windscreen that delays the day,
brittle tests when patience is small.
Sanctify mess,
sanctify time.

Sanctify unholy pain;
sanctify this senselessness
that drives me to the end of me
and sends me to Your feet.