“I confess my iniquity; I am troubled by my sin”
— Psalm 38:18
Lord, have mercy upon me,
For on this day I have committed murder.
I have killed. I have stanched the flow of life.
I have willfully snipped the tenuous thread of existence.
Forgive me, for I have grievously sinned against enduring natural law.
With my sharpened blade did I hack and tear
At the freshly succulent stems of sweet-smelling roses
And did thus cut them off their stalks in the prime of life.
Ordained were they to spend their fleeting days —
As numbered by the gently falling measure of their petals —
Adorning lush, fiery bushes and upswept shrubs, bobbing and nodding
In the evening breezes to serve as landing pads
For hungry twittering sparrows and shy, lamenting doves.
Their stamens and pistils destined to proffer sustaining nectar
For flitting butterflies twirling in joyous pirouettes
From blossom to blossom in exquisitely
Choreographed mid-morning minuets.
Unwittingly have I denied the fluffy bumblebee the pleasure
Of its daily pollen collected in plumose little legs and chest
And thus did shamefully obstruct its divine creation
Of wholesome and ambrosial flowered honey.
With cruel unremorse have I plucked and crushed
The tiny pulpy aphids hiding on the undersides
Of verdant sappy rose leaves, thus impeding the steady source
Of tasty morsels to the mouths of favored speckled ladybugs
My heinous deed thus thwarting the harmonious interlacing
Of my treasured garden.
O Lord, I have indeed sinned grievously
Against your arcane works and mysterious cosmic ways.
With my boot I have trampled upon squirming earthworms,
Slapped at lacewings and mosquitoes nipping at my cheek,
Strangled nettles and virginia creepers
Wrenching weeds and brambles from their roots
With single-minded savagery.
In lackless wisdom have I plucked out fronds
Of living, ferny bracken and bosky Solomon’s Seal
Unmindfully dismantling shady canopies that shielded
Gentle cats from scorching rays of sun
As they reposed in noontime slumber.
All this, aye, have I committed recklessly and wantonly.
All this, and more, just to gaze admiringly,
Even for a few fleeting hours,
On your immortal beauty shining through these three
Resplendent fragrant rosebuds resting in their crystal vase
With porcelain faces turned upwards as if in prayer.
Lord, have mercy on me.
Forgive my transgressions.
Have mercy upon me,
For I am but a poor, weak mortal
Merely seeking your sublime and perfect beauty
In all eternally living things.