God's Roll Call

Good versus Evil
Confess seven deadly sins
Father forgive me.

Please Note: the following is only partially based on semi-truths, meaning that only the latent message is a whole truth; however, the above haiku might be more of a reflective self-portrait. I, availed in a sunrise of beatitude, have regard on high for The Holy Trinity and what it entails. The following, written in 1st person, is only a recondite commentary because I think, in general, priorities are on the rim these days. Moral of the story -- we get lost in ourselves and lose sight; we are malnourished in an abyss of our own making and often subscribe to putrescent views. I will use myself in this story in order to avoid nailing ascetic names to crosses. I suppose I'm a bit Voltairian -- freedom of religion and all that. My intention is in no way a blasphemous or sacrilegious one. I am not consigned to a nebulous existence and I realize a stand-in will not atone for my sin. Because I signed a sacred treaty and am fully aware that the sky was overrun w/ grace when a bird said, "Sin No More."

My sin is bigger than me like spires reaching into the empyrean. It wears me like haute couture. Flashing bulbs of hellfire parading runways. Swatches of Faustian bargains and temptation sewn in my mea culpa regret. A crowd, beginning a mass confiteor, sounding like ovation judgment, waits for my confession. Which is -- I'm not Baptist, or Catholic, or Seventh Day Aventist, or Jewish, but I've stopped attending the services of church, not that I believe less or sin more, okay, maybe the latter, because I have the traits of a sinner, but I would like to think nothing major. Even though my prayers are in arrears, I like to think of it as Sin in C Minor. I mean, there are degrees of sin, right? Like a hierarchy of sinfulness? Like a scale -- on the verge of naughty, truly bad, and then pure evil? And, yes, I have to confess that I've stopped praying in lieu of writing letters & thank you cards to God; it's more my forte. Like this...

Dear God...
I know you can hear me, w/ my words of infirmity, and all the rest that they are, when I'm selfishly wanting or needing or detouring, not praising or worshipping or spreading the greatness of you. I apologize from my knees, from a devil's anvil, thru a Prayer of the Heart; I don't mean to emasculate the divinity or the omniscience in any kind of irreverent flash, like when I use your name in vain (i.e. the twenty times I might say OMG in a day), or when I commit the same sin I asked forgiveness for the night before. But I know that you know me and my modus operandi, which is not adversarial nor malicious, and thank God for that. For that, I would hope things were automatically noted but unconditionally overlooked. And you know, even though I cannot attain a reciprocal state w/ you, I think you're the King of awesome beyond all measure of awesomeness. As always, I beg your mercy, my omnific Judge. Even though I give you the littlest of attention, I embrace my innate culpability. And although I suffer from an ungoverned view at times, I know there exits a harbinger of ultimate forgiveness.

Your mostly abiding & allegiant acolyte whose recompense is yours.